


Everlasting Shame

by RougueShadowWolf



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst and Tragedy, Bullying, Child Abuse, Eating Disorders, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Homophobia, Hurt Stiles, M/M, Manipulation, Possessive Behavior, Sad Stiles, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, The Hale Pack - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-01
Updated: 2015-11-18
Packaged: 2018-01-07 01:13:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 67
Words: 218,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1113754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RougueShadowWolf/pseuds/RougueShadowWolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles Stilinski had known that Beacon Hills would bring the end to his family. Stiles would always regret not fighting his father on the issue of moving to Beacon Hills. There would always be everlasting shame over his weakness and what had transpired to ruin him and his family could not be altered. All Stiles Stilinski had left was regret and shame, and one Peter Hale.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I Hate Beacon Hills

**Author's Note:**

> Now The First little warning my Loves (yes, even you who will hate me later on) I have no real skill in writing at best it doesn’t suck and there aren’t more mistakes than not. English is not my first or second language although my brain does try and deceive me on a regular basis; there for my skills in the art of spelling is not that of a great and skilled person, all the mistakes are mine and mine alone. If misspellings and mistakes in facts and typing, or the awful descriptions I tend to make as well as poor wordings and so on are a risk for your mental health then please take my advice; DO you NOT to put yourself thought the hell of reading this fic or any other I have or will post in the near future.
> 
> I have warned thee so do not bathe me with your wrath later on.
> 
> I write for my pleasure and fun (although like this fic I do so also by request, those who have made requests have been able to overlook my faults and stupidity), I enjoy writing for it calms me and I make no claims of being anything like the great bard Shakespeare or Jane Austen (if I was anything like Austen then my sister would surely respect me more), I am but me and so what I can give is this.  
> To Those who are willing to give me a chance, I thank thee with all my heart and hope you’ll enjoy this little story (sorry about the amount of chapters, my friend did complain once more over my lack of skill in writing short stories) that had some paths I had to follow which was a pain in the you know what.  
> Now that was all on my warnings in regards of my writing and now to other issues that must be brought forth. 
> 
> Now for those who aren’t aware of the reasons why this little fic has been created I’ll gladly tell you; when I asked my dear friend (who rarely says bad things about my writing, bless her heart) about what she would wish for her birthday, there was not a minute of thought before she said, “I want a Steter fic” that turned by my Doves request three days before her brithday and by deadline (I seriously had to remind myself why I loved her enough to change the fic AGAIN) to "I want a steter fic that isn't all sunshine and rainbows". Thank the heavens her original wish had not stated shunshines and rainbows.  
> Trust me when I say I was a bit stunned by her original wish and the one that came rather late in the game, and my expression must have revealed as much both times around as she started off telling me what she wanted before I could say “yes” or “Hell no”, and as she knows me far too well to give me a chance to shoot her down before she gets to ignite my special little spark that dwells in my brain she rammed on with her wants. 
> 
> She wished for a fic where Paige and Stiles are siblings (I do believe I did that part). They’ve lost their mother but are still lucky enough to have their father. She wished for Derek and Paige to fall in love (although it was not allowed to be the main theme of the story and I do believe I did that rather well) and for it to end with her death (which I did). She wanted Peter to fall in love with Stiles, and for Stiles to do the same (I did that in some shape and form). She wanted me to make Peter into a asshole to breaks Stiles heart, but she made no notes on how this was to play out so I had the freedom to fuck Stiles up as much as it pleased me (because my friend is soft at heart I made the less horrible version. She wished for Paige's death to truly change Stiles, and once more she gave no path for me to follow on this part and she did not like where I took him.   
> Now there were plenty more guideliness which I will point out later on. 
> 
> My Dove gave me permission to post this story for you to read, so if you like it then it will not be only I who will be overjoyed. 
> 
> Now, I should tell you all that Claudia Stilinski has in this story been dead for about a year, and because Stiles was mama’s boy while Paige was daddy’s girl, the death of Claudia Stilinski has hit Stiles rather hard and there will be brief mentions of suicide and suicidal thoughts, as well as self-harm and so on (for a cheerful person my friend wanted a bit of angst and misery which fits me well).  
> Now because my friend asked for Stiles to be a bit of a little shit he acts a bit like a brat (so sorry about that, I found it a pain in the ass). And she asked for the relationship between father and son to be strained, so if you’re waiting for a good father and son relationship here then please take my advice and take the nearest exit.
> 
> Those were the warnings for now, please enjoy or find something else to read my dears.

 

Stiles eyed their new home with distaste, hoping the problem was with his glasses and not with the building itself. Stiles watched as his sister and their father made their way up to the dull and cheap looking building that had not a single drop of charm to it. His mother would never have allowed his father to buy such an ugly house, and she would have never agreed to have them move into a house with just one bathroom.  

 

When his father had sat them down a month ago and told them that they were moving, moving to a place called Beacon Hills, and selling the house Stiles’ mother had made into a beautiful home, Stiles had felt like he was about to be sick while still finding the strength to scream at his father telling him he couldn’t sell their home and move them to some God-forsaken-hole.

 

It had all felt like a betrayal.

 

It still felt like a betrayal.

 

What made it all so much worse was how Paige chose to side with their father and not with Stiles, telling Stiles she too believed a new beginning was for the best. Her betrayal shouldn’t have hurt Stiles as much as it did, considering how she sided with their father more often than not.  But it had indeed put a strain on their relationship that had already been pulled near breaking point several times in the past.

 

Stiles had argued with both his father and his sister for weeks. Stiles had even gone as far as to run away from home, not that he ran far only to his best friend Scott’s house where he stayed for nearly two weeks before Mrs. McCall had sat him down and told him he had to go back home; she dropped him off at his house, Mrs. McCall had asked Stiles to stop being selfish and think about his father and sister, telling Stiles how much he was hurting his father with the way he was behaving and to trust his father and his judgment. Melissa had then turned the knife just a tad bit harder by telling Stiles how disappointed his mother surely was by his behavior.

 

Mrs. McCall had then proceeded to tell Stiles that she loved him but her words meant nothing to him and Stiles climbed out of her car without a word; because no one cared about how _he_ was feeling, it was all about his dad and Paige.

 

No one cared that _he_ was hurting.

 

`Come on kiddo, ´ his father, the new deputy of Beacon Hills shouted over towards Stiles who was still standing by their ancient broken Volvo that his mother had refused to give up because it had character, `time to fight your sister for the best bedroom.´ His dad was smiling, but the smile just doesn’t reach his eyes and the cheerfulness in his voice is as false as his smile.

 

Stiles pushes himself off of the car he had been leaning against, and makes his way up towards the house and then entering it with his father’s hand resting against his neck a fragile attempt to encourage and support Stiles, but it feels more like trying to force Stiles into this new unwanted cage. Entering the house, hearing the front door closing behind him, he sees Paige running upstairs and Stiles can tell her eagerness pleases their father who continues to guide Stiles upstairs.

 

Unlike Stiles Alec Stilinski doesn’t babble when anxious or nervous, if he did then he would have been talking Stiles ear off.

 

`Found it! ´ Paige shouts from one of the larger bedrooms.

 

The hand against his neck slides away, leaving an almost haunting emptiness inside Stiles.  Watching his father hurry over to the room Paige has chosen, Stiles decides to skip the bedroom near the stairs and the bathroom, leaving the room at the end of the hall for him to take.  

 

The room left for Stiles is much smaller than what his bedroom had been, and the walls are blue and he hates the color, the room smells odd and doesn’t care what anyone will say this will never be _his_ room; he is only staying here until he leaves for college and if he’s not going to college then he’ll move out and head back home as soon as he can save up enough money to do so.  

 

Walking over to one of only two windows, _his_ room had three and they had been almost twice the size of the ones in this miserable excuse of a room, Stiles can’t help but wonder how much smaller this room will become as his bed and desk arrive not to mention shelves and draws.

 

Suddenly it all becomes too much and the air in the room just vanishes and he can’t breathe. Stiles can’t breathe, not when the feeling of claustrophobia reaches out to snag him in, he tries to open the first window to let in some air but it doesn’t budge nor does the other one.

 

Realizing the windows are not on his side, and finding one more reason to hate the room and loathe the house, Stiles begins to find breathing to truly be a labor and Stiles feels like he’s losing control of his body and the only thought in his mind is to get out, and not just out of the room but out of the house.

 

Stiles escapes the room with hurried steps, he is well aware that he is dangerously close to having his third panic attack that month. Stiles stumbles past Paige’s bedroom he can hear her and their father talking but the words are unclear and muffled; he fumbles towards the stairs, if he was back home then Stiles would be far less ungraceful because his body knows the way around the house, here he is as graceful as a blind man in unfamiliar surroundings after losing one of his legs.

 

His chest hurts and the world is moving too fast around him but at the same time it wasn’t moving fast enough. Stiles crashes down the last three steps because his feet refuse to act as they should, the pain he feels explode in his knees and arms as he hits the floor are almost dull considering he might be having a heart attack, and he groans instead of crying out in pain as he can’t breathe in or push the air trapped inside his lungs out. Stiles can barely hear his sister and father call out to him, but in the end he doesn’t care because he can’t breathe and with his heart feeling like it was trying to escape its cage while something dark and terrifying was squeezing it tightly, there were dark spots dancing around in his blurred vision the spots grew and spread until everything went black leaving Stiles free from any sounds and feelings or sensations.

 

The darkness was almost like a blessing.

 

**~*~**

 

It’s a slow process, painfully slow process just like passing out had been, the first sense that comes back this time is his hearing; he can hear his sister telling him to breathe and promising him everything will be alright because she’s there and so is their dad. Paige sounds so sad and desperate that Stiles almost feels bad about being so difficult about the moving to god-forsaken-nowhere. Then he begins to feel the tightness of her hold, his mind tells him their sitting and that he’s resting against his sister, his head resting against her shoulder, Paige’s legs wrapped around his middle while his own are resting spread out against the hard surface of a floor.

 

It takes a few seconds before Stiles figures out by the sounds and smells that their outside on the back porch, the sound of insects surprisingly loud and the wind that brushes against his face feels cold and refreshing.

 

Stiles can hear his dad barking orders inside their new house, his dad sounds strained and upset. The last sense to open up to Stiles is that of sight and what he sees is the poor excuse of a back-garden. He groans unhappily as he lifts his head, the arms stay around him but the legs unwind.

 

`Hey, your back.´ his sister tells him softly, `You had a panic attack. A big one.´

 

`I know.´ Stiles croaks while trying to get away from the cage that is his sister, Paige does lets go but there is a feeling of still being shackled to her.

 

`You nearly gave dad a heart-attack.´ Paige tells him with a gloomy voice, her skilled fingers moving up to rub against the crown of his head.

 

Stiles knows Paige misses his longer and much softer hair, she’d cried when she’d seen what he had done to his hair, it didn’t matter what the reason had been back then and it didn’t matter now; she still hated it, asked him to stop. Stiles had thought she’d stop complaining ones he allowed enough hair to stay to give him a buzz-cut but it only seemed to make it all worse because now she kept trying to comb her fingers through what little hair he had on his head.

 

`Hadn’t planned on having one.´ Stiles says, pushing his body up and off the filthy floorboards that made porch, complain loudly beneath him and his sister as she follows his example.

 

`I know.´ she sighs, they are both looking out over their so-called garden, `What triggered it? ´

 

`Don’t know, ´ Stiles snorts, `Could it be being dragged away from home to this dump? ´ Stiles makes a gesture towards their new surroundings, while glaring at the so-called garden, he’s almost glad his not wearing his glasses because at least he’s partially blind to the horror that was the garden.

 

`Stiles.´ Paige says without even trying to hide how unhappy she is with the way her brother is behaving, she’s crossing her arms so very much like their father does when he is frustrated or when he feels like that is the only thing to do to prove a point. It had been a long day and it was clear Paige wasn’t in the mood for her little brother and his childish stubbornness, and especially not after having to watch him have another panic attack.

 

Stiles knew watching him go through a panic attack was never something Paige got used to, but at least she had stopped crying about it.

 

`What? It’s the truth.´ Stiles argues, ignoring the imploring look from his sister who hands him his glasses while opening her mouth to try and reason with her him, to just say something to defend her decision to support their father, to give her unhappy brother something positive about their new home and all the possibilities that a new start could provide him. But the shattering sound of something fragile breaking inside the house has Paige bolting back into the house, loudly wishing nothing important had been broken and praying that what had been broken was not something that would upset Stiles any further.

 

The sound makes Stiles jump, but unlike his sister he has no desire to see what had been broken, he feels no need to enter the house or to help his father and sister. Instead Stiles stays outside the crappy house, eyeing the backyard of their small property. Like everything else thus far the backyard is as much of a disappointment as the house itself was. There were no flowers growing and the lawn had been abandoned for so long that it had grown wild in some places while in other the sun had scorched it to nothing; their backyard had been incredibly beautiful, Stiles mother had cared for it with the same amount of tender love and care that she did her own family. Stiles had loved spending hours attending to the needs of the garden with his mother or just sitting there reading. When the weather had been nice her mother would serve breakfast, lunch and dinner out in the garden. There had been days when he had sat in the garden practicing some new piece of music his mother had found for him while she worked around the garden, if he ever hesitated or had a doubt of his ability to master the piece of music she would always pop-up from somewhere and whisper into his ear, `Trust yourself my little spark, ´ and with her hand on his hear she would say, `If you believe hard enough then you can do anything.´

 

After his mother was gone Stiles continued to keep the garden as she had made it be, he’d kept the garden flourishing which had helped to increase the value of the property. But Stiles had abandoned his cello, the piano and the violin.

 

Stiles could feel the burning sting of tears as he thought about his mother and the place he had called home. Here in Beacon Hills he had nothing left to remind him of the vibrant spirit she had been.

 

`Son? ´ Stiles snaps out of his thoughts and dries his tears on the sleeve of his blouse, he hates crying in front of his dad.

 

**~*~**

 

`Imagining ways of fixing the garden? ´ Alec asks, there is a whisper of hope in his voice that he just can’t suffocate or hide. He walks over to his little boy, who hasn’t been himself for months.

 

`You should start planning what you want to do to the garden son, so we can get started I’m not good with panting things but I’m pretty nifty with a shovel.´ He’s about to start telling his son how he’d helped dig up the flowerbeds of their old garden, and how horrified Claudia had been when they found a small animal cemetery in the garden; Claudia of course insisted on laying the poor creatures back down where they belonged although she made him dig the graves deeper down so no one else would disturb Fluffy and Mittens any further. But Genim simply shakes his head before walking straight past him without a look or a word directed at his father.

 

The silence is almost far more devastating than the screaming Genim had done in the beginning. And it causes the dreadful ache to return in his chest like a vengeful spirit that never truly left. Hearing the door close behind him, Alec looks straight ahead and at the garden he hadn’t even bothered to look at before buying the house and when the realtor had talked about the house needing some work and that the garden just needed some love and attention Alec had honestly thought Genim and Paige would be up to the task; Paige would improve the house and Genim the garden, he had imagined all the trips they would make to the local hardware stores and garden centers, he had imagined it would do them all good to start out fresh.

 

`Claudia, what am I supposed to do with our boy?´ Alec asks with a lowered voice and a closed eyes, he can almost sense her there smiling sympathetically at him before answering, `Time, Alec, he just needs time.´ He can almost see her standing there next to him, her long brown hair flowing down her shoulders with a few unruly waves of curls here and there, whiskey-colored eyes full of love and support, pale skin dotted with pretty little moles he had loved to name; Betty was the one above her bow-shaped upper-lip, and Adrianna was the one hidden behind her left ear and Lucy was the one hidden on the tip of her middle-toe of her right foot.

 

Alec felt a lump in his throat form as he realized how empty his life was now without his Claudia. If she were there she would have scolded him for thinking that, she had left him with her two beautiful children which were like images of her. But neither Paige nor Genim could ever replace the hole Claudia had left behind.

 

And Claudia had always been the one who understood Genim and the way his mind worked. Claudia had never told their son to stop talking, no she had encouraged it from the moment the child had started to speak. Alec had often wondered if indeed Genim’s twin who had died at childbirth, they had nearly lost Genim too but the little child who was so much smaller than his older brother held onto life with all his might, would have been more like Alec and if the two would have had an easier relationship; liked the same sports, been more silent by nature.

 

Alec shakes away the thoughts that will harm him more. They had lost Lucius and had been blessed with baby-Genim, there was no point in wondering about the son he never truly had, he had to focus on the son he had.

 

`He’s a fighter.´ Alec reminds himself with a sad smile, ´Of course he would fight me on this.´

 

**~*~**

 

`Stiles.´ Paige calls out while her younger brother sprints past her and out of the kitchen, almost running into one of the movers. Paige can hear her younger brother running upstairs, before hearing him slam the door behind him as he enters what is now Stiles’ bedroom.

 

Trying to ignore the sting of sorrow in her own heart she continues unpacking the dishes in the box one of the movers had carelessly dropped, she had of course known the move wouldn’t go down easily with her brother but still she had dared to hope he would have grown to accept it by now. The Stilinski stubbornness was rearing its ugly head.

 

The heavy hearted sigh tells Paige that she is no longer alone in the kitchen. Paige had been so deep in thought that she hadn’t even noticed how the box was empty of plates except for the three or four that had shattered into sharp pieces and were left alone at the bottom of the cardboard box.

 

Paige turns around to look at her father who looks like life had just served him with another great blow to survive through.

 

There were days when she wondered how her father kept on smiling.  

 

`I’ll go and talk to him, ´ Paige says while closing the kitchen cabinet it was barely large enough to hold half of the plates and other dishes they’ve brought with them and she knows she’ll have to make the decision of either selling a few sets of dishes off or try and find a place for them in the basement. But her father shakes his head and tells her to leave Genim alone for now it’s obvious that he wants to be left alone; it’s been a long drive and perhaps once everything’s calmed down Genim will come out of his slump. Paige isn’t sure if there is even the slightest hope that it the night will play out that way.

 

`We should order pizza, ´ Paige says as her father heads off to help the movers, `He’s always in a better mood after a few slices.´

 

Both father and daughter hope that Paige is right, because both of them need the silent treatment to end. They both understand the anger; they know there is much more to it than just the moving. They know all they can do his hope for the best and wait for the anger to give away for the spirit that had once had the youngest member of their family running around; that had the house and their lives filled with laughter and information, they miss the boy who would pester them with information and odd facts. Alec and Paige wish their Genim back all loud and energetic.

 

Paige swears that if she had her brother back she would never tell him to be quiet again. Paige would happily listen to Genim talk and talk for the rest of her life, if only he would get back to being the happy kid he had once been.

 

**~*~**

 

For the rest of the day it is the father and daughter team that work to unpack as much as they can until dinnertime rolls. The need to keep at least a few details of their previous life alive has them loyal to the time they have dinner, and so Paige searches frantically for a place that would deliver some pizza that might be good enough to spark the hunger that should be well alive inside of her brother.  

 

Paige hoped having Pizza for dinner would make her brother come out of this shell he had vanished into. Genim loved pizza, their mother had often joked that if Genim had a taste of pizza before he had learned to say mama well then his first word would have undoubtedly been pizza and then maybe mama, and Genim had agreed with her with an almost impish smile. Paige sighed at the memory of her mother slipping another slice of pizza to her Little Spark before giving him a one armed hug and kiss on the crown of his head, while Genim was called a spark by their mother Paige was always just called Princess and the older she had gotten the more she had grown to feel like the nickname their mother had given Genim held more meaning and love than the one she had been given; yes, Paige had been jealous of the relationship between her brother and mother, but then again she knew she was much closer to their father than what Genim was.

 

`You alright there, honey?´ the slightly amused voice of her father snaps Paige out of her thoughts and she looks over at her father who was leaning against the doorframe, `I mean even I know turning the plates clockwise or counter-clockwise won’t change the angel much.´

 

`Very funny dad.´ Paige says with a smile, and before she knows it she’s hugging him.

 

`What’s wrong baby? ´

 

`Nothing.´ Paige lies, not willing to tell the truth; she is glad that the parent they had lost wasn’t her dad, she didn’t want her father to know how selfish she could be.

 

`We’re going to be fine. You know that right? ´ Alec says as he holds Paige close and kisses the top of her head. Paige nods against the firm chest of her father, where a heart that needed to beat until Paige was married and old enough to survive the death of her remaining parent.

 

The doorbell rings with an almost broken sound, it would figure that even the doorbell is a bit broken; a broken house for a broken family to live in, so why not a broken doorbell to be the cherry on top.

 

The pizza was delivered within ten minutes and as the new deputy of Beacon Hills paid the young man, Alec could not help the feeling that _this_ pimple faced boy before him had been speeding but it was the older Stilinski’s last night off for a while and so Alec would let the suspicions slide, and Paige would have jumped in quickly to stop her father from going from being dad-at-home to being dad-at-work; they needed dad-at-home and not work-dad tonight.

 

`Ge - Stiles.´ Alec called up to his son, even after nearly a year this new name his son responded too felt unfamiliar and unwanted on his tongue, the name Genim had been chosen by Claudia and because of it the name had become precious to him, `Pizzas here.´

 

Alec stands still for a moment, holding the two boxes that did nothing to mask the scent of the mouthwatering goodness’ they held inside them and listens to any response from his only son. The sound of Genim exiting his room has Alec smiling, hoping for the best, while making his way into the small kitchen. Paige shares the smile her father is wearing and heads back into the kitchen.

 

Paige isn’t a big fan of pizza never has been but she’ll do anything at this point to get her brother to sit down and have dinner with them, since the passing of the matriarch of their little family the youngest member had stopped having most of his meals with them. And until now they had allowed it, but things needed to change and Paige would force the changes on her brother even if it killed them both.

 

Genim entered the kitchen without a word. Paige as well as Alec ignores the obvious signs of Genim having spent his time upstairs crying. They watch as the thin pale figure takes a seat at the table, Paige takes her seat across the table from him; he sits silent and unresponsive while Paige and their father converse with ease about what needs to be done to the house.

 

There had been a time when Genim had done nothing but talk, asking questions or relaying information he had gathered during the day, Paige and been lucky if she got a word in back then. This silent figure was unfamiliar and frankly frightening.

 

**~*~**

 

Stiles listens to his sister and father talking about what they could do to improve the house, new wallpaper and other such things were suggested; Paige had plenty of ideas and their father agreed without much thought to each suggestion. Stiles honestly didn’t care what they did to the house. They could burn it to the ground for all he cared.

 

Stiles took two bitter bites of the slice of pizza Paige had placed on the plate before him, the taste of it is bland at best and he forces the second bite before finishing his can of soda. He wasn’t even hungry to start with.

 

 With the can empty Stiles gets up from where he had been sitting, he says a short thank you before walking out of the kitchen and heading back upstairs; he does this all quickly enough so that neither one of his remaining family can ask him to stay or to try and make him eat more, he’d already been forced to eat breakfast this morning and really could do without any more added pressure to become the son his dad wanted.  

 

Stiles is neither blind nor stupid, he knows his actions are hurting his father as well as his sister. But there is a part of Stiles that just doesn’t care about how his actions are affecting the last two people he has left. There is a small part of him that wants to hurt them, punish them for not being there when he and his mother had needed them the most; when Stiles had needed them the most.

 

There was also a strange and terrifying part of Stiles that wanted them to stop pitying him, to stop care for him and instead begin to hate him as much as he hated himself. If they hated him then he could probably bring himself to do what he had slowly begun to feel would be the proper thing to do; but as long as there was even a risk that he was still loved by the remaining family he had, Stiles couldn’t do what he wanted to do, even Stiles couldn’t be that cruel.

 

Stiles wants to disappear or to be back home where he could still pretend that his mother wasn’t dead, where he could still see her touch in every room and where he could feel his mother’s presence all around, he wants all of this as he escapes to hide in the room he hates.  Stiles hates this new house and he despises the room he is now forced to call his bedroom; it’s much smaller than his _real_ bedroom, there is no walk-in closet, the ceiling is lower and the room feels stuffy even without furniture.  

 

Stiles know he has to endure it all at least until he either runs away from home once more, or moves out or simply manages to escape to college. Stiles closes the door behind him with a little but too much force before dropping down on the mattress that had been dropped on the floor.

 

Before his eyes drift a close, Stiles wishes that when he wakes this all will be nothing more than just another nightmare, that he will find himself back in _his_ bedroom on his bed hearing his mother call out his name like songbird.

 


	2. Got To Hurry Up and Get Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> High School sucks and if anyone ever dared to try and convince young Stiles Stilinski otherwise, he would gladly prove them wrong for there is nothing good about High School. High School was a just another circle of Hell on earth and it was one he had to endure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please be kind and understand that neither my dove nor I care very little for the need to sit and ponder over grammar and such things, and I do not hold in my power a Beta so if your comments are about all the mistakes I have made then I care not for them for this was all just for fun and for the pleasure of my Dove. But any other comments will be welcomed. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed the fic and if not try and give it another go for it is a slow fic to read with very little action and haste. 
> 
> My Dove asked for Stiles’ hair to be buzz-cut although I will change it later on (which she complained about but finally forgave me after I frightened the shit out of her by getting sick) and if you missed it he’s also wearing glasses which were another thing she wished for when it came to Stiles Stilinski in this tale of sorrows and cruel fates. So, he’s got glasses and a buzz-cut, if that’s not your thing please take to your freedom of choice and leave. If you can live with it and wait for the little changes that I will do to out darling Stiles, then try and enjoy my little fic.  
> And I do apologize yet again for writing a fic where Stiles is a little shit. But, hey, a wish is a wish and this was all a birthday gift from me to someone who can ask me for almost anything and who pushes me to try out new things even when I'm afraid of trying out new things.  
> I personally feel very sorry for Mr. Stilinski who just doesn't know what to do with his son.

Another restless night of hiding under the covers and pretending that his life was different from what it was, ended with graceless and loud banging that came from the door that sealed him inside a room he refused to make his own. The noise informed Stiles of the arrival of a new day as did his sisters demanding voice, warning him that this new day would be also his first-day at Beacon Hills High School and that it was hers as well so he’d better get up and out of bed or she’d  by God force him out of bed.

 

`Get up! We’re going to be late.´ Paige called out from behind the door while banging on the door a few more times, which had Stiles wondering how clever her sister truly was; could she honesty think he hadn’t been awakened by the first loud and abusive hits against the door.  

 

For some strange reason the moment made Stiles think about Harry Potter, well it made him think about the moment Harry’s aunt Petunia knocking at the cupboard under the stairs, telling Harry to get up. Shrill of Paige’s voice was rather befitting for Petunia.

 

`Get up, Stiles! ´ Paige shouted from behind the door, she would never enter his room without his say so unless she though he was dead, or doing something that didn’t involve finding him in a rather compromising position, she had learned this after walking in on Stiles with his hand wrapped around a part of Stiles she hadn’t seen since he was wife-years old and running naked through the garden.  

 

Stiles knew and had been aware of Paige’s eagerness to begin her years as a High School student, why not considering how their mother had talked about how they had been a great part of her teenage years. Paige was eager enough to start her years at High School even if her little brother was to join her. While Stiles sister was eager to start High School, Stiles was anything but keen to start his High School years but like so many things in his life he had no choice in the matter.  

 

Stiles sighed as he forced himself up and off his mattress as another string of loud knocks erupted.

 

`I’m up! ´ Stiles shouted at the closed door and kicked at stack of clothes that were either dirty or clean, he had no idea which and didn’t care, before searching for clothes to wear without giving it much thought. His mother had always been the one to make sure he looked decent enough, but now she was gone and he just didn’t care anymore if his clothes fitted or were clean; why bother he would still just be a weirdo and a freak who believed in things he shouldn’t believe in anymore.

 

Stiles had been convinced for years that there was so much more to the world than what he could see. Stiles believed there were such things as werewolves although he wasn’t too sure how much he believed about the rumored mythical-beasts ability to only turn on the full-moon as it was in Stiles opinion detrimental to their survival; he also had a sneaking suspicion they could control themselves much better than movies and comics suggested.  Stiles’ mother had always listened to his thoughts about werewolves, never judging him or trying to convince Stiles to stop instead she bought him books that held even a page on the creature that might howl at the moon and she’d always said that if he believed in something hard enough it would come true; not that it had helped her.

 

Stiles left his room grabbing his glasses, the thick-black-rimmed glasses had been chosen by his sister, he had four pairs of them and one of them had been left on the only piece of furniture Stiles had placed rather than dumped in the room; the need for several pairs were needed because Stiles had a bad habit of breaking them. Stiles hated needing glasses although his sister and mother had always told him he looked great with them, and considering he had worn glasses since he had been seven years old one would have thought he had gotten used to wearing them which he hadn’t; but as long as Stiles couldn’t stand the idea of trying to put on contact lenses the glasses stayed.

 

Stiles made a quick visit to the bathroom to wash his face and teeth, putting on the glasses while heading downstairs hoping his dad had forgot to pick-up their school books as well as the other things Paige had listed for him to get, wishing so very hard that his father would allow them to stay out of High School for another week or two or in Stiles case forever.

 

`God, did you even look in the mirror?´ Paige sighs as Stiles enters the kitchen, their dad looks up from his paper and winches at the sight of his son who just shrugs his shoulders and drops down in his chair, `I thought we talked about what you should wear.´

 

`You talked.´ Stiles grumbles and pored a glass of orange juice ignoring the bowl in front of him, and the piece of toast Paige placed before him. Next to the toast there was the familiar set of pills he had to take in the morning. After an unfortunate incident not too long ago, an incident their father wasn’t aware off, Paige took control of all the pills in the house; she would place the correct amount and assortment of medication and vitamins in Stiles hand or like this morning on a small plate.

 

Stiles starts chewing on the piece of toast after his father gives him an odd look that was a dangerous sign of his dad starting to think, Stiles hates the taste of the toast in his mouth and his stomach lurches the moment the first bite travels to depths of his stomach, but Stiles has to eat at least half of it or else his dad will drag him back to some shrink who thinks they can get into his head.

 

Paige has finished her own piece of toast and a bowl of cereal long before Stiles has finished his piece of toast, she’d already started to clear the table while their dad hurries to bring them their new bags. Stiles got a simple black backpack while Paige was gifted with a very pretty and elegant shoulder bag.

 

Their dad looks very pleased with himself as he walked into the kitchen carrying the backpack and shoulder bag, a look that grows when Paige rewards him with a kiss on his cheek and gives him a “thank you daddy”.  Stiles takes the backpack with a short thank you, he hates it but won’t say it because he knows his dad has done his best, but his mother would have known not buy a black one any other color would have been better than a black one.  

 

`Come on kids, let’s get going.´ the older Stilinski says, smiling happily as he grabs his coat and the keys to the cruiser, he’d sold the old Volvo a few days ago after they had gone to Beacon Hill’s High School to get registered in as students. Through the tour around the school Stiles had felt like begging his father not to make him start High School just yet, to beg his dad to allow him to be a normal kid and hang around students of his own age, these thoughts had of course made Stiles oblivious to most of the things the principal showed and talked about. The principal had been strangely keen on having Paige as well as Stiles at his school, trying to make it sound like the two of them would have the greatest experience at the school; he also kept telling Stiles that he could come and talk to him when he felt like he needed someone to talk with.

 

Of course Stiles knew it was all just talk. The balding man didn’t give a damn about Stiles.

 

Paige slides into the front next to their dad who is grinning from ear to ear, while Stiles is left to share the backseat with Paige’s cello. Stiles wishes that they’d get hit by a truck, that he’d die in the impact while his sister and dad would survive without a single scratch. But like all of Stiles wishes this wish did not come true.  

 

They pull up outside the building that has Stiles shrinking back. The High School looks uninteresting, plain and like something straight out of a TV-show or a movie. There are students all around moving around the area like it was a nest.

 

The students are all so much larger than him and menacing looking for a boy who is barely fourteen. He shrinks down, trying to hide as best he can for he has no desires to face these students as he had barely survived those of his own age.

 

Paige is out of the car faster than Stiles can say a word to ask her to stay, and their dad follows her example and grabs the large instrument from the backseat, Stiles doesn’t move just watches a girl called Heather as she comes walking up to Paige; the two had hit it off the moment they had met during the tour of the schools music room, Heather played the violin and for the past week the two girls had played and practiced together because together it was all much more fun than alone.

 

Paige snatches her cello from her father before giving him a quick kiss on his cheek and while rushing off telling him she loves him. Stiles watches as his dad stays for a moment just beaming proudly after his daughter who waves a quick goodbye to him before hurrying inside the building, eager to be introduced to those Heather thinks important enough for her to know.

 

Stiles knows his sister courage and comfort with this new situation comes from Heather, without the girl she would be hiding alongside him.

 

When Paige is out of sight the new deputy of Beacon Hills yanks the car door to the backseat open and looks down at his son with a raised eyebrow.

 

`Why can’t I just be homeschooled? ´ Stiles asks for the seventeenth time, hugging his backpack tightly, refusing to move.

 

`Son, you know why.´ His dad sighs, this is a conversation that has taken place too many times for the older Stilinski’s liking, `And you need to be around people closer to your own age. You can’t keep hiding up in your room.´

 

`I wasn’t hiding.´ Stiles says shortly, hugging his backpack tighter, `I was _avoiding_ having to have contact with the outside world, and that is _not_ hiding.´

 

`Same thing.´ his dad says with a flicker of a sorrowful smile on his lips.

 

`No. It really isn’t. ´ Stiles grumbles, because he wasn’t hiding if he had been hiding then he would have crawled under his bed or desk and hid there, sitting in a room wasn’t hiding. You had to actually find a hiding place in order to hide.  

 

`Son.´ his dad says with an exasperated tone of voice which was never uses on Paige, `I’m not having this conversation again. You are going to school, and you _will_ make friends.´

 

Stiles shakes his head, he doesn’t want to go and Stiles knows he won’t make friends here because he’d only just managed to make friends with Scott; and that had happened because Scott was too nice of a person to not be friends with Stiles, and because Melissa McCall and Claudia Stilinski were friends so they were destined to be friends.

 

The bell rings and it sounds demanding, the sound makes Stiles jump while his father looks up at the building, watching the last flood of students move inside before turning back to look at his son.

 

`Get out of the car Genim. I need to get to work and you need to go to class.´

 

The words have Stiles shaking his head but he still can’t stop his dad from dragging him out of the car and slamming the car door shut behind him and Stiles who continued to struggle against his father’s hold.

 

`You need to hurry, kiddo, you don’t want to be late on your first day.´ the older Stilinski tries to say with a smile that should encourage his son. But when he reaches out to pat his son on the shoulder, but Stiles pulls away and with a voice so bitter it startles the deputy Stiles says, `Just go dad.´ Then the fourteen year old walks up to the building, and vanishes inside it like a man walking to the gallows, while his father calls out to him with that tone of voice Stiles hates.

 

Stiles freezes when he hears the doors close behind him, he stares down the hall where there are only a few students left and they are running off to their classes, while he can’t move. As the second bell rings Stiles is about to run off and hide, but he knows he can’t do that no matter how much he wants too, so he pulls out the scrunched up piece of paper that tells him which classes to attend and when. But it doesn’t help much when he has no idea where the class-room is.  

 

Of course Stiles is late for his first class of the day, and to his dismay his teacher is the kind that thinks having him introduce himself to the rest of the class would be a good choice; she forces Stiles to stand there all flushed and nervous, and because he is nervous he starts to stutter and if that isn’t bad enough telling them his name turned out to be as bad as his nervous stutter, one of the students snorts out loudly, `What the Hell is a St-St-Stiles?´  the rest of the class bursts out laughing, but the teacher snaps at the teenager, `Derek Hale, would you like to spend an hour in detention?´

 

That shuts the teenager up, although he glares at Stiles who still isn’t allowed to head to the only empty seat in the classroom; right in front of the boy called Derek Hale, instead she continues harassing Stiles with questions about where he’d lived before moving to Beacon Hills, if he had any other family than his dad who was the new deputy and his sister Paige who was also a student at the school, Stiles barely gives any answers and struggles against the urge to cry.  

 

By the time she finally allowed Stiles to take a seat the class was nearly over and done. When the bell rang, everyone started to head out of class, everyone but Stiles who really wasn’t in a hurry to leave because of the look Derek had given him and Stiles knew that look all too well it was as familiar as breathing was.

 

`Are you alright, Stiles? ´ the teacher asked as she gathered up her things, Stiles gave a short nod but by the look she gave him made it clear she didn’t believe him, `It’s a big school, isn’t it? ´  Stiles gave a another short nod, which had the middle-aged woman smiling sadly at him before clearing her thoughts and asking which class he had to attend next.

 

Stiles hurries to grab the piece of paper he has treated with as little care as possible, it’s a bit ripped and torn at the edges by the time he has it in his hands and reading out, `French with Mr. Argent.´

 

`Oh, then I’d better show you to his class, because Gerald will give you detention if your just shy of being late for his class.´

 

There was something about Mr. Argent that gave Stiles the creeps, he wasn’t sure if it was just overly-friendly way with which he greeted Stiles or if it just was something in the eyes of the older man; Mr. Argent’s eyes made Stiles feel like he was trying to see into his soul, trying to figure out what Stiles was and didn’t that just sound weird.

 

When lunch-time rolled in Stiles was still getting lost and had an opinion of most of the teachers at the school, he was also becoming increasingly aware that most of the teachers didn’t take kindly to his questions or found the random facts he would spew out interesting or worthy to hear. At his previous school most of his teachers had understood that there was a chemical-imbalance in him that made sitting still and silent more often than not very difficult for him, he was never threatened with detention or getting sent to principal’s office; today he had been threatened with detention twice and sent to see the principal who promised Stiles he would talk with his teachers.

 

Stiles didn’t like his new teachers, well Mrs. Price had been nice and so had Mr. Cage who was his thought History and Biology although the man had a few screw’s missing; the rest of them were just mean or like Mr. Argent creepy. And by lunch time Stiles was perfectly aware that he was going to have lunch with his sister and Heather, until it became clear he wasn’t because his sister was sitting at a table that didn’t have a single seat for him to sit at because every seat was taken and she didn’t even notice him or look for him. Without his sister as company Stiles decided to skip lunch, he hadn’t really been all that hungry to begin with. Stiles grabbed a soda and hurried out of the crowded area, running straight into none other than Derek Hale with whom he shared as far as he knew four classes; and in each class Stiles was made to sit next, in front or behind the Hale kid.

 

`I-I’m s-sorry.´ Stiles apologized quickly but the damage was already done when it concerned Derek Hale, he pushed Stiles up against the wall which finally caused the younger boy to drop his can of soda.

 

`Why don’t you watch where you’re going loser.´ Derek snarled in Stiles face. Stiles couldn’t understand why, but there was something about Derek that had him feeling like a rabbit caught in a trap.

 

`I-I’m s-s-sorry.´ Stiles repeats, trying not to look into Derek’s eyes but he finds them terrifyingly fascinating, he marvels at the sheer display of colors. Derek Hale may be an asshole, but he is an asshole with beautiful eyes.

 

`Oh, look at that, we’ve got a little queer-boy here, guys.´ the teenager with hair as dark as Derek’s says with a wicked little smirk, but while Derek’s eyes are a wonder to see this one’s remind Stiles of pools of mud, `You think someone like Derek could ever like a little shit like you?´

 

The boys start laughing, while Stiles shakes his head.

 

Stiles would never imagine someone liking him. Stiles tries to slip away from the group but is pushed back against the wall by Derek.

 

`Where do you think you’re going, loser? ´ the largest boy asks, he reminds Stiles a little of Scott in appearance although this one lacks the kind eyes and is twice as big as Scott.  

 

`What’s going on here, gentlemen?´ the voice of Gerald Argent had the group moving away from Stiles, the more stupid individuals have their hands raised as if to say they hadn’t even touched Stiles it only makes them look even more guilty than before.

 

`Nothing, Mr. Argent.´ most of the boys say, except for Derek Hale and the boy with eyes like pools of mud.

 

`Mr. Stilinski, is everything alright?´ Mr. Argent asks as he walks towards the group, eyes focused on Stiles who just nods and avoids looking into those cold all-knowing eyes.

 

`Are you sure about that, Mr. Stilinski? ´

 

`Y-ye-yes, s-s-sir.´ Stiles says, `W-we w-were j-ju-just ta-talking.´

 

Derek catches Stiles’ eyes and narrows his own, which makes Stiles feel very nervous. Gerald moves towards Stiles, tilting his head ever so slightly as he asked what they had been talking about and the only thing Stiles can think about is, `W-w-well, I th-think Ba-Ba-Batman is th-th-the gre-greatest sup-superhero be-bec-because he’s hu-human an-and wit-without any sup-superhuman p-p-powers unlike Sp-Sp-Spiderman an-and Wol-Wolverine.´

 

Stiles really hated his stuttering, it pained him like several fists landing against his useless body.

 

There is a sharpness in clever eyes of Gerald Argent and he glances over at Derek Hale who stands stark still, `B-but D-D-Derek th-thinks Wol-Wolverine is th-the b-b-better one. N-no-not that th-there is an-anything wr-wr-wrong with Wol-Wolverine, I j-j-just th-think it’s n-n-not re-really s-s-such an ac-ach-achievement wh-when you’ve g-g-got sup-super p-p-powers on y-your s-s-side.´

 

Stiles want’s to stop, but his brain is on a roll and his mouth won’t stop flapping, he knows he is just making himself look more like a loser the more he talks.

 

`I m-m-mean i-if W-Wo-Wolverine gets sh-shot it’s r-really n-not th-that b-b-big of a th-thing, he c-c-can go b-back to saving the w-world wit-within an hour w-w-without th-thinking a-about p-p-pain or his mor-mortality; B-B-Batman, he doesn’t h-h-have t-th-hat priv-privilege.´

 

Gerald smirks suddenly and it worries Stiles a little but he can’t stop talking not yet, not until someone tells him, `All y-y-you n-n-need is a g-good sh-sh-shot and B-B-Batman d-di-dies and h-he knows it, if h-he g-g-gets h-h-hurt he f-f-feels it the n-n-next d-day an-and f-f-for weeks, i-i-if..´

 

`I understand, ´ Gerald Argent says as he raises his hand to signal Stiles to silence his brain and mouth, which the boy does like an obedient puppy, `But you young men should be having lunch, not standing out here in the hall.´ Mr. Argent glares at the teenagers before him, Stiles isn’t blind to the fact that the teacher allows his glare to linger on Derek a while longer than with the others.

 

`Yes, Mr. Argent, four of the boys say before telling Derek they should hurry before all the good-stuff was gone. Stiles didn’t move, he caught the suspicious glare Derek shut at him and the smirk Mr. Argent gave Derek. It was all very strange and somewhat disturbing.

 

`Why not follow your friends, Mr. Stilinski? ´ Mr. Argent asked as he stood waiting by the doors, holding the door open as if for Stiles.

 

`Oh, I a-a-already h-h-had l-lunch, s-s-sir.´ Stiles lied, Mr. Argent looked at him from head to toe before nodding and before walking into the area which served as a feeding ground for the students of Beacon Hills the old man said, `I think you very wise, Mr. Stilinski.´

 

`Choosing the human and not the beast.´ with those words the teacher vanished from sight, the doors swinging for a minute back and forth, Stiles could hear Mr. Argent shout but a moment later, `Mr. Flannigan, I do wish that pastry did indeed accidentally launch itself from your hand.´

 

Stiles spent the rest of the day avoiding Derek Hale and his little gang of idiots, which he managed to do until the last class of the day ended he found his body become very familiar with his locker so hard he saw stars, he heard Derek’s voice laugh out, `Learn to walk, loser.´ the ghostly feeling of a hand was still on his back as Stiles got back up on is feet, he hadn’t been aware he’d crumbled to the floor. It takes Stiles a while to realize he’s broken his glasses which isn’t really new and shouldn’t shock his dad but it doesn’t make it any easier to face his father.

 

With a sigh Stiles starts to make his way towards the exit, but before he gets there Mr. Argent calls out to him and before he knows it he is holding various pieces of papers for such things as tryouts for the swim team and Archery as well as something called Lacrosse, as soon as he is sure Mr. Argent can’t see him Stiles throws them all away in the nearest trashcan.

 

Heather and Paige are already outside talking with his dad by the time Stiles gets out of the building. When the talk their having with his dad ends Paige is running off with Heather towards the other end of the parking lot, Stiles recognizes the white Ford and the young man standing near it; Dan’s Heather’s brother who decided not to go to take a year to work in the café that is owned by Heather and Dan’s mother, Stiles suspects that this year-off-of-school is because Dan hadn’t gotten into a college.

 

Stiles is left without a goodbye wave from his sister, but she does wave a goodbye to her father and shouts out the usual, `I love you dad.´

 

Stiles watches as his sister gets in the car, laughing loudly and happily at something Heather says. With Paige out of sight the older Stilinski finally notices his only son who slowly walks over to the cruiser.  

 

 `Hey there, kiddo. Nice day at school? ´

 

Stiles says nothing just throws his backpack into the back seat and follows it without a word or a glance at his father who looks like Stiles had just slapped him across the face.

 

**~*~**

 

Alec walks around the car, head lowered because he isn’t blind, he knows his son has been close to crying and Alec sees what appears to be the start of a bruise on the pale skin of his young face. There are no glasses to be seen anywhere and he has seen this all before, but back then it was Claudia who took care of any issues at school.  

 

Alec knows his son cries more than he smiles these days, he knows his son sobs more than he laughs, he knows there are more tears flowing from his son each day than there are words falling from his lips; and he knows no matter who he sends his son too, they will be tricked and fooled by the clever boy because Alec has seen this happen too many times before.

 

Alec knows enough about his son to be aware of his unhappiness, and it makes _him_ feel powerless and weak when it came to caring for his son.  

 

Climbing into the car Alec glances back at his boy, who has one of his books out and is scanning through the pages as if reading but Alec knows when his son is reading, because there is an expression of sorts that speaks of a deeply focused mind. Alec sighs as he starts the car. He wants to talk with his son but can’t bring himself too because he doesn’t know how to talk to Genim, there had never before been a need for the deputy to do so because that had always been Claudia’s job.

 

If Alec had only known that he would one day be a single father, then perhaps he would have asked his wife how to talk to his son, how to make his boy talk to him, But Alec had been the one with the dangerous job, not Claudia.

 

They drive in silence to the house, and it pains Alec to see how slowly and reluctantly his son gets out of the car and moves up to the house, and without even telling his boy that he has to go back to work his son says, `Bye dad.´ His son doesn’t even look over his shoulder at his father.

 

There is a tightness in Alec’s chest, Claudia’s little boy had always been so loud and energetic and full of laughter and life, clever words had always fallen from him with such great ease it had amazed Alec who had never been gifted with words, This boy who had walked up and into the house was nothing more than a ghost or a shadow of the boy he had once known.  

 

It had been a year and the death of his wife had left behind continued on growing between him and his son, and Alec feared his son would keep falling further down into the darkness while he and Paige could only watch it happen.

 

Deputy Stilinski had hoped the move would do his son good, to get away from everything that had kept Genim feeling like his mother was still there, and to start a new life somewhere where no one knew about everything he had gone through. Paige had been firm in her belief it was the right choice, and so had Alec but a little ghost of a whisper told him he was delusional if he thought dragging his son away from the one place the boy had called home would help. But he was a desperate man who had not only wanted to save his son from the constant memory of his mother, but himself as well.

 


	3. Trapped

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles curls around himself and wishes that he could be dead and not alive. Sobbing against his knees Stiles wishes he was anywhere but where he was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really want to punch Derek, I really do (I have a great hatred towards bullies, mostly because I’ve been bullied and belittled from the first day I stepped inside a school and it wasn’t just by my fellow classmates but also my teachers, so yeah I’d gladly kick the shit out Derek right about now). So forgive me if this chapter isn’t great, because it just made me feel a bit sick to my stomach. This wasn’t fun to write and you can probably sense it.

Stiles is on the floor of the janitors closet, the door locked trapping him inside the small space. His nose itches like craze from all the fumes that comes from various bottles, some of which had fallen when Stiles had in his desperation tried to find a way to escape the space that was without light. Still the itch isn’t enough to uncurl Stiles from the position he is in or to do anything to ease his plight.

 

For the past three weeks Stiles had been pushed to the ground and shoved against lockers, he has been slapped and kicked like he was a worthless dog, mocked and tormented by cruel and hateful words. But until now Stiles had not been locked inside a small space, he hadn’t been trapped where there were no windows or any source of light to keep the terrifying and suffocating darkness away. Stiles could handle the beating and the humiliation, he could bare the cruel words and suggestions, but he could not handle being trapped inside a small space.

 

Stiles had never before been locked inside a room or a closet, not even at his previous school had anyone gone as far to show him how worthless and annoying he was as the ones at Beacon Hills High School had, but that was still not the reason why he was sobbing against his knees which he had pulled up against his chest; he was hugging himself as tightly as he could without disturbing all his cuts and bruises that littered his body, trying to find some comfort in his own presence to trick his mind to forget where he was and how alone he was.  

 

What had him sobbing was the fact that he couldn’t get out, he couldn’t get out because he was trapped like he had been a year ago. The thought made it even harder for him to breathe, and he could swear that the walls were caving in on him. He could hear metal creaking and complaining, and the smell of blood started to trickle its way into his senses.

 

Stiles wasn’t even sure that anyone would notice him missing before much later in the evening when it was time for him to take his medication, Stiles had never thought he would be so thankful for Paige’s paranoia because without it no one would notice him missing until dawn. But until it was time for his meds, he would be lost and forgotten. Paige would stay at Heather’s until dinner, while their father was working late tonight so hadn’t been there to pick up Stiles from school and that meant his father wouldn’t know he was missing.

 

The thought that he has only two people in his life that would miss him be it much later than what he would like it to be, has Stiles sobbing even louder.  

 

Stiles had lost his cellphone while struggling against Derek and his friends, Stiles hadn’t noticed his phone slipping out of his pocket while trying to get free and escape getting locked inside small space. If he’d had his phone on him now then he could have called for help or at least had some source of light.

 

Of course in the beginning of his captivity Stiles had begged Derek to let him go, pleaded for the teenager to free him, then Stiles had started to scream and beat the door of his prison, kicking while his fear grew until he had no recollection of what he was doing.

 

Hale had only laughed at him, mocked him, and refreshed Stiles’ knowledge of being friendless and how no one would miss him. Stiles had sobbed and begged, kicked and screamed, until he had collapsed on the floor feeling worthless and so alone.  

 

When Stiles was back to realizing where he was and what had happened, he realized Hale had left. Stiles had been left with the firm knowledge that no one cared if he lived or died.

 

The fear grows within him as darker thoughts start to push and pull at his mind, and it makes his heart feel like it is being squeezed and he just can’t get enough air into his lunges. Stiles knows the signs of an incoming panic attack, and he knows he is having one and his mind quickly informs him that this is the fourth one this week and the second one inside the closet.

 

Stiles tries to fight against the panic that grips him, because he knows the outcome of allowing it to rule over him; he will pass-out because his body is weak and useless, in the laps of consciousness and control his full-bladder will release its burden without Stiles permission.

 

There is a loud bang and a sudden flood of light, that has Stiles looking up at a tall looming figure that does not remind him of his sister or father as it moves towards him he pulls back against the stack of toilet-papers. The figure speaks but the words sound more like the adults in Charlie Browns happy little world; and this all makes Stiles even more terrified of what is to come, he covers his head as best he can and tries to form words to plead for mercy but he just cant.

 

His body goes ridged the moment he is pulled into a firm hold, it has him fighting for a moment, he might have been screaming or making some other sounds Stiles couldn’t be sure as his mind was a complete mess.

 

Soon the words reached him, words that grew clearer as he focused on them and the voice that was unfamiliar but reassuring at the same time. When Stiles opened his eyes the bright light felt far too bright and he couldn’t stop the whimper that escaped him, the male voice keeps telling him it’s alright and telling him to breathe in and out; Stiles leans against the body behind him, exhausted and desperate to feel anything but alone, he is thankful to find that the man doesn’t object to his pathetic need.

 

They sit there until, Stiles feels like he is more in control of his body to face the world once more. Opening his eyes he sees Mr. Argent standing at the open door that looks like it had been kicked in, his teacher watches Stiles with the same sick-sadistic-curiosity he had seen in the eyes of his teacher when he was watching Stiles from a distance, then like always that look vanishes and Stiles is left to wonder if it was just all in his head.

 

`Dear boy,´Mr. Argent says as he reaches out towards Stiles, offering his hand while those that had held Stiles from the brink of passing out vanish from above his chest and from his hand, the teacher looks pained at the sight of him and Stiles takes the hand.

 

`Who didthis to you? ´ Mr. Argent asks as he pulls Stiles up and off the floor, clever eyes peering into Stiles’ and a new sense of fear floods Stiles who quickly asks to be excuse because he is about to burst, and Stiles has been seen at his weakest and feels no shame to admit why he needs to get away from the closet and Mr. Argent.

 

Stiles had been lucky enough with the location of the janitors closet, if it had been any further away from the restrooms then he wouldn’t have made it, but he did make inside and managed unzip his fly before his body gave up to its need to ease the growing ache beneath the pale bruised skin. Stiles took his time in the restroom, not eager to face Mr. Argent’s questionings and watchful eyes. Stiles wasn’t sure what it was about the older man that made his skin crawl or why he felt like he should keep his distance from the teacher as possible; considering how he was one of the few of the staff that didn’t look down at him.Stiles washed his hands and his face a few times, the cuts on his hands sting under the flow of water and he tries his best to ignore the unwelcomed pain as he tries to figure out what to do; he needed to get home before Paige noticed he was missing, he couldn’t have her calling their dad, but he wasn’t too keen on facing Mr. Argent not until he had full control of hismind so not to slip-up and tell the man who had locked him inside the small space. Stiles had learned years ago not to get his fellow students in trouble.

 

Stiles looks up at his reflection and frowns atthe image that greets him, there is a cut just below his cheekbone and his lip has been split, heisn’t sure if these injuries came during his struggle not to be thrown into the janitor’s closet or when Hale had pounced on him earlier in the day. Stiles knows he’ll have to come up with some convenient lie to throw his sister off the trail, he can’t have her fighting his battles once more because there is nothing as pathetic as a boy needing his sister to defend him.

 

The knock on the door startles Stiles out of his thoughts, `Son, are you alright in there?´ the teachers voice was full of false concern and Stiles could hear it, and once again Stiles found himself imagined Gerald Argent as a reptile it was a terrifying thing to imagine and Stiles quickly pushed the thought aside.

 

`I’m f-f-fine.´ Stiles answer’s before exiting the restroom, finding Mr. Argent standing right there by the door, while a younger man was standing next to him, there was some resemblance between the two; but unlike with Mr. Argent the concern in the younger man’s pale-grey eyes was real.

 

`Now,´ Mr. Argent said while placing one of his hands on Stiles’ shoulder much like his father did, and focused his attention of the younger Stilinski, `You have had a trying day, so I won’t push the issue of who locked you inside the closet.´

 

Stiles thanked all the deities. Stiles was thanking them, until Mr. Argent had finished talking.  

 

`But tomorrow you should come and see me before class,´ Mr. Argent’s voice made it clear to Stiles he could not argue nor could he avoid having a chat with his teacher, `this treatment,´ the hand on Stiles shoulder came to touch the bruised cheek, `cannot continue. Do you understand, Mr. Stilinski? ´

 

Stiles bit his lip and looked down at the floor as the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach grew, and he gave a stiff-nod.

 

`Good. I’ll see you tomorrow before your first class. Chemistry, right?´ the determination in Mr. Argent’s voice felt suffocating to the boy, who just gave another nod before slipping out of his teachers grasp and heading towards the nearest exit only to find he was being followed by young man whom Stiles had never seen around the school.

 

`My son will drive you home.´ Mr. Argent said with a calm voice, `We can’t have you walking around after such an unpleasant reaction.´

 

`I’m Chris, ´ said the younger Argent as they walked across the parking lot. It was already dark outside and Stiles worried that his dad had already found him missing.

 

Like Mr. Argent Chris walks like a soldier it makes Stiles wonder if Chris had gone to military school, if it was an Argent family tradition.

 

`St-Stiles.´ Stiles answers while following Chris over to the black SUV, the younger Argent held the door open for him and as he climbed into the car that still smelled like a new car should.

 

`So, where are we going?´ Chris asked, while driving out of the parking lot, Stiles gave him the address at which he was staying at for the moment. They drive was a silent one.Usually Stiles would have broken the silence before any heavy silence could ever have fallen, but after the trying dayStiles was too exhausted to wrack his brain for various conversation starters.

 

When the car finally pulls up at the house, Chris finally spoke although it was clear he was rather uncomfortable, `If someone is hurting you, kid, you should tell someone.´

 

`Wh-what, l-l-like y-y-your d-d-dad?´  Stiles asks while with a snort, unlocking the car door in one swift movement and pushing at it creating an exit he’d wished for throughout the ride.

 

Chris’ reply surprised the young Stilinski, `No. Not my father. But someone else.´

 

`I-I’ll th-th-think a-a-about it.´ Stiles says as he gets out of the car, stumbling a bit as he moves, `Th-thanks f-for th-the r-r-ride, Ch-Chris.´

 

`It was nothing.´ it’s all Chris Argent says his eyes that are like pools of silver are on Stiles, and there is something about him that makes Stiles feel like he should be careful around him a familiar feeling born when around Gerald Argent.  

 

But before Stiles has a chance to close the car door, Chris reaches out towards him and hands him a piece of paper, `Stiles, if you want you can call me.´

 

`S-s-sure.´ Stiles says as he closes the car door and hurries up towards the house, the piece of paper clutched in his hand.  He is aware that Chris Argent is watching him, waiting for him to get inside the house, and Stiles isn’t about to disappoint him. Stiles steps inside the house his sister and father now call their home, while shoving the small piece of paper into one of the pockets of his jeans.

 

Before Stiles can make another move his sister and Heather come walking down the stairs, both girls come to a sudden halt, both wearing an expression of confused shock until Paige ends up looking like she’s about to kill someone and runs down towards her little brother.

 

`Stiles?´  she reaches out to touch his face but hesitates, and goes instead to demand answers Stiles is not willing to give, `who did this to you, who? Where have you been? Tell me.´

 

Stiles movedpast his sister, trying to ignore her but she was as stubborn as he was. They walked intothe kitchen, Paige repeating her questions with far more determination than before, voice ever so slightly louder and frantic.

 

Heather made a quick and a half-hearted excuse to leave escaping before things got awkward.

 

`Tell me, Genim.´ Paige snapped, while she forced her brother to face her, her eyes running over his bruised face.

 

Stiles knows Paige will hound him for the answer, and he is frankly too exhausted to fight her, and he hates being this weak and hates himself even more so when he feels the burning sensation of tears make a reappearance, `You have to p-promise m-me, that y-you’ll n-not m-make a b-big d-deal….´

 

`Genim, ´ Paige says sounding frustrated and sad all at the same time, her hand reaches up to stroke the uninjured side of her little brothers face.

 

`P-promise.´ Stiles pleads.

 

`Who did it Stiles? ´ Paige demands but Stiles just asks her to promise not to go all crazed-big-sister on him and the people who had been tormenting him for weeks, for her not to behave like she had done back home; because her protectiveness had only made his life harder, because he wasn’t only the weirdo who believed inwerewolves and couldn’t shut-up unless beaten to silence, Paige had made him also into the boy who was so weak that he needed his sister to defend him.

 

`Fine.´ Paige snaps, `I promise. I promise Genim.´

 

The pity in his sisters eyes burn him, her anger worries him, it’s all enough to have him looking down at the floor before sighing out the answer he dares to give, `The usual people.´

 

`I want names, Genim.´ Paige demands while grabbing both of his hands into hers, her hold is painfully tight until she sees the damage Stiles had done to his hands.

 

Stiles had known she would ask for names, she always did. Stiles knows that his sister has now come to realize that all those bruises he had been covered in for weeks haven’t all come from his clumsiness.  Stiles begins to spew out a very long list of names of all those people who had bruised his body, he feels so weak as he voices each name and remembering each time they had hurt him and when he finally reaches the end of the list with Derek Hale’s name at the very end.

 

Stiles had whispered the name of the teenager his sister had been crushing on since the very first-day at Beacon Hills High School, he had hoped she didn’t catch the name he dropped but the moment Paige’s the contact between Stiles and his sister vanished he knew she had.

 

For a moment Stiles thinks that his sister hates him, because he was suggesting the perfect boy wasn’t all that perfect. But then Paige is hugging him, and telling him how sorry she is and how much she loves him, she swears she’ll cut Derek’s balls off with a rusty-knife as soon as she finds one.

 


	4. Send Me on My Way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Doing the right thing isn’t always that easy. Ignoring your heart is never a matter of ease. To stand before two paths of which was is long and with so very little patches of light to keep the darkness at bay, the other bright and smooth but with whispers of poor judgment ahead, to take the harder trail is never an easy choice while the other speaks of such ease. To make the right decision is never truly seen at the moment it is made, nor is the wrong one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m not all too thrilled with this chapter but I needed a doorway and this was the only one that didn’t make me cringe too much. If you have any questions please do ask…
> 
> I'm starting to consider deleting this fic.... I'll just go and chase down some chocolate and eat away my sorrow....

 Paige watches as her little brother and their father walk into Mr. Argent’s classroom, Mr. Argent had been waiting for them outside his classroom wearing his rather patronizing smile as the three of them came walking down the hall.  Their father looked completely exhausted and defeated while Stiles looked like he had lost every will to not to simply give up on life. It was difficult to see the two men in her life look so broken, she was far too young to be asked to take care of everyone in her family and yet there she was doing just that.

Paige had sat at the kitchen table with Genim, talking through things like school and how long he had been bullied, she had also fished out the dark thoughts that were slowly taking over every thought her brother had; Genim had even gone as far as admiting that he thought his death might just be for the best, of course Paige had lost it then and there and told him not to even dare to think that because no matter what she loved him and so did their father. Genim told him about the first time he was assulted, he taled about the things people said to him, and he told her about those who had been tormenting him. Paige talked with Genim until it was clear it was all becoming too much for Genim, she allowed him to go to bed while she staid up to wait for their father; as soon as her father came home she spilled the beans and he had been devastated to hear about what had happened to Stiles, and he was as determined to bring an end to the torment Stiles had been going through just as much as Paige was determined to claw out Derek's heart.

The moment Mr. Argent closes the door behind Stiles and her father Paige was off running, chasing down Derek Hale. She needed to find him before the bell rang, he had History and she had Chemistry and no one knew how long it would take before she would catch him alone again and this needed to be taken care of before class.  

Paige curses herself as she should have known better than to let herself fall for someone like Derek Hale. The Derek Hale's always picked on the smaller and weaker ones, and used people for their own pleasure and joy.  Still she can’t help but remember when Derek had come up to talk to her on her first-day at Beacon Hills High School, his opening line to her had been, `My name is-´

Derek had been so confident and sure, and after spending hours admiring him from afar Paige was so excited to find he had noticed her as much as she had noticed him, in her eagerness to speak with Derek Paige had responded far too quickly, `I know who you are.´ Because of course she knew who Derek Hale was, who didn’t? God, she and Heather had jumped and shrieked with joy at the prospect of there being a Paige and Derek relationship in the future.

 Although Paige had played it cool, well as coold as she could  when faced  with someone like Derek. Paige had been so happy over his attention. But now she regretted it, full heartedly. Since then the two had been talking on the phone and texting each other, at school they would spend some time with each other such as eat lunch or sneaking off for some privacy. It turned her stomach to know that there had been times when Derek had been kissing and touching her soon after he had dragged her little brothers soul through the mud. Paige hated herself for all the times she had sneaked off on dates with Derek, happily unaware about the state her little brother was in, and while she was falling in love with Derek her little brother was falling to pieces.

Paige should have been more focused on Genim, and less interested in keeping Derek Hale's affections. 

Paige stalks the halls, searching for Derek, fighting against the memories of time spent with him and all the feelings those memories awaken inside him, she tries to stay strong in her resolve to defend her brother to bring some justice to her little brother who had tried yet again to handle things on his own; the last time he had done that she had found her baby brother barely concious on the bedroom floor, face in his own vomit empty bottles that had held his Adderall and the various other medications he had to take back then, they had been lucky that she had come home when she should have been out with her friends.

Paige finds Derek waiting for her by her locker, like he does so very often in the start of their day at the school that had welcomed her with open arms. Derek looks so very happy to see her that there is no doubt in her heart that he does love her. Her feet carry her with quick and determined steps towards Derek, while she tries to kill the pull in her heart that tries to sway her determination; a voice in her head tells her how Genim can and will forgive Derek, a voice that tells her that if she helps Derek he would learn to see the glory that was Genim. Her heart aches at the prospect of giving up on Derek, because surely Stiles can understand why she needed to keep Derek.

But the sound of a locker being closed with a hardness that is unjust makes her imagine all the times Derek had slammed her younger brother up against the lockers, and she remembers all the bruises and all the things her brother had told her about what Derek had done to him; her anger flared at the memory of her brother berating himself for being who he was as if it justified everything done to him. Paige slaps the smile right off of Derek’s face a young face that hold such promises of masculine beauty. Even during the car ride she had heard her brother mumble out, `My fault. I'm a freak. I deserve it.´

Derek opens his mouth to speak, to say a lovely hello to her, but Paige hits him with such ferocity that it brings a strange ache in her hand while also causing Derek to close his mouth. Those who had been drifting through the hall all pause in their tracks and stare at the two of them with wide eyes and open mouths before the whispers start. Derek and Paige had kept their relationship a secret rather well, of course some whispers had swirled around them and their relationship, but because Heather had always been around nothing had been set in stone in the regards of Derek's and Paige's relationship.

`What the Hell is wrong with you?´ Paige asks voice full of anger, pushing at Derek who looks confused and stunned, `You think your better than him, is that it? Are you such a pathetic person who needs to push around someone smaller and weaker, to hit and degrade them, just so you can feel bigger and stronger? ´

 Derek opens his mouth but she isn’t done yet, and she won’t let him speak to her ever again, because his voice holds such power over her, `You think I could ever be with someone who would do even half of the things you’ve done to my brother, Hale? ´

`And what sort of piece of shit would date the sister of the one they’ve been tormenting for weeks and weeks? ´ Paige asks, her body tense with anger, `Did you honestly think I wouldn’t find out what you had been doing to my brother? ´ She punches him in the chest as she continues her rant, `you think I’d want to date some homophobic shit, Hale? Well, do you? ´´By the time Paige had finished ranting the bell rang and she gave Derek a murderous glare before spitting out, `If you ever go anywhere near my brother, Hale, I’ll make your life a living hell, a living Hell.´  

 Paige makes a move to leave because she can’t stand there seeing his beautiful eyes carrying a look of hurt, seeing it might break her resolve so much so that she might just choose Derek above Genim which was something she was not willing to do; because Stiles needed her, because he was alone in a world that didn’t understand his brilliance.

 `Paige.´ Derek says softly, and it makes her insides melt but she still hisses out, `Don’t.´

 `You’ve been making my brother’s life a living hell! ´ Paige yells at Derek, `You’ve been hell bent on pushing him to try and kill himself, aren’t you. I’ve already once come home to find my little brother trying to kill himself, and now you and your friends are pushing him to do it again.´  

Derek shakes his head before he opens his mouth to speak but he can’t come up with the words that might make it all alright, perhaps because there aren't words to heal the damage made. Paige wasn’t aware of it, but the last thing Derek wanted to do was to hurt Paige Stilinski. He had admittedly not realized how the way he treated Stiles would affect her, and Derek felt like an idiot and idiot who couldn’t say anything to justify what he had been doing or to even apologize.

`I’m done with you.´ Paige hisses at Derek, and she wishes she didn’t feel like comforting Derek while saying those words, but he does look so heartbroken and devastated, but she still she finds the strength to walk away. Paige can feel her tears start to make their unhappy journey and it makes her move with hastened steps.

 

**~*~**

 

Coming home and finding his daughter waiting for him had been enough to tell Alec Stilinski that something was wrong, and his first thought was that it had something to do with his son. Alec’s heart had skipped a beat when he’d realized his daughter had been crying, and for a moment he expected Paige to tell him Genim had finally tried to kill himself Alec had expected it to happen at some point; he wished it never to happen, but he'd wished to never see his wife laid down to rest in the cold ground so wishing was useless. But thank God his son hadn’t tried anything so drastic, but the news had still been bad enough to keep Alec awake the entire night thinking about what he should do or say but coming up with nothing.

After a night without sleep and without any wisdom born from hours of pondering, Alec found himself walking into one of the many classrooms of Beacon Hills High School shaking hands with his sons French teacher.

 `Mr. Stilinski.´ Mr. Argent had said after the two had shook hands and gone through the necessary introductions and greetings, `I am rather surprised, but glad to see you here,´ Mr. Argent said as he took his seat at his desk, while eyeing the two Stilinski’s before him.

Alec looks at his son who is staring down at the desk he is sitting at, one might mistake the boy to be reading all the little words scribbled on the desk some faded and barely visible while others had been carved with far more determination, but Alec knows his son isn’t reading or even really looking at them. There was an air of desperation in the way his son sat there, and it made Alec’s insides churn at the sight. Alec has been aware that Stiles has lost some weight, but it is now while truly looking at his little boy that he realizes how thin his son is and it terrifies him.

Alec turned his attention to the teacher who was watching him and Genim like they were lab-rats running around a labyrinth, the older man quickly changes his expression but Alec has seen it and becomes much more wary of the man he has seen men with a similar manner of being and they have been men he has arrested.

 `I’m trying to figure out why this is a meating between just you and my son.´ Alec says, eyeing the teacher suspiciously. His gut telling him not to trust this man and to take anything he said with a pinch of salt.  He also struggles against the need to hide his son from the sharp gaze of the man.

 `Well, ´ Mr. Argent says with a smooth calm voice, smiling ever so slightly, `I had rather hoped me and your son could have talked about what happen yesterday before taking the issue up with the head of this fine school.´

 Alec almost says, `Sure you do,´ but he keeps his mouth shut and allows the teacher to continue pretending that he actually care for Genim, but Alec will not trust the words the snake spills from his mouth. He will protect his son from this man.

 ` I wanted to make sure your son wouldn’t be deterred to speak the truth....´ Mr. Argent says while looking between father and son but before he is able to finish Alec snaps at him.

 `Are you calling my son a liar? ´ Alec asks sharply, glaring at the teacher.

`Genim maybe many things but a liar isn’t one of them,´ Alec growls out before yelling at Mr. Argent,  `You think he locked himself in that janitor’s closet? Have you seen his hands?´ Alec would never start yelling while on duty and interrogating a suspect, but when it came to his son all of his natural calm flew out the window, especially now after his wife had died his need to defend his son had grown. He points at the hands that were bandages up, `Look at those hands!´

 `No, Mr. Stilinski.´ Mr. Argent says voice a bit harder than before, `I am sure your son isn’t a liar no more than any boy at his age would be, Mr. Stilinski.´ then the teacher looks over at Alec’s son with such false pity that Alec wants to pull the eyes right out of the mans head, `I wanted to talk to Genim about what happened yesterday and make sure that what is just an assumption is correct, but I just needed….´

 `You have suspicions? You had suspicions?´ Alec snaps and he is up and standing because his mind is racing, `So you’ve known my son has been bullied? For how long have you known about this? Were you just standing there while my son, _my son_ was beaten into the ground? ´

 `Mr. Stilinski, I have suspicions.´ Mr. Argent said, while watching the newest deputy of Beacon Hills glare down at him, `and hardly and any prof as long as your son refuses to speak-up for himself there is nothing I can do. Some of our studnets have very powerful parents, and to speak ill of their children without some evidence is unwise.´

Alec can't help but snort at the words and cross his arms over his heaving chest, he needs something to happen; he needs someone to pay for what has happened ot his son.

`And I honestly wished to speak with young Genim alone, so that we could discuss what has been done to him somewhere private and safe.´ the teacher says and if the words held even a hint of truth then Alec’s anger would have swayed, but the eyes were truly the mirror to the soul with the French teacher and those eyes were so much like the ones of the man who had burned his ex-wife and his kids after the man lost the house to his wife and kids.

 `This is my day-off Mr. Stilinski, ´ Mr. Argent says, perhaps trying to sway Alec to be on his side, but the deputy knows from experience that some people will do anything to appear better than what they truly are and so Mr. Argent’s sacrifice meant nothing to him, `I rarely come in on my days off, but I do when I feel the necessity of it.´

 `Mr. Stilinski, have you talked with your son about what has been going on? ´ the teacher asks, and for a moment Alec feels like he has been hit in the gut. Alec feels his heart shrinking into nothing. Alec hadn’t talked to his son. He hadn’t really talked to Genim in a very long time, mostly because he couldn’t find the words to do so. Alec couldn’t be more disappointed in himself because as a father he hadn’t been a great one and it seemed he continued to fail his son; he was more in-tune with his daughter, far more comfortable with her than with his son, which left Paige to deal with Genim more often than not now that his wife was gone.

`Mr. Stilinski, I too have lost my wife but my children were hardly as young as yours children are, so I can’t comprehend how difficult it must be to raise two such young souls, ´ the teacher starts but Alec snaps at him, `How does any of this…´ Alec begins, fed-up to hear more tales and opinions of people who think they know what’s going on between him and his children.

 `It isn’t, forgive me.´ Mr. Argent says while sighing and shaking his head, `I know you are doing your best, which is all we single parents can do, right? ´ Alec Stilinski nods, and looks down at his son who is too silent. Years ago his son would have been up and ranting about the injustice of the situation or some random fact.

 `Mr. Stilinski, until your son is prepared to give me the names of the people who locked him inside the janitors closet, I am unable to do much else than to keep an eye on things.´ the teacher may speak softly, gently, but there was no true warmth or sympathy in his voice or in the words.

Alec ran his hand over his face and looked over at his son, hoping he’d unseal his mouth and tell if not to him then at least Mr. Argent the names of the people who had bruised Stiles faire skin. But Alec knows Genim will hold his tongue and so will Paige, because she had promised Stiles to keep quiet and the fact that she had told Alec about what had happened had been more than he could really ask for.

 `Mr. Stilinski,´ Mr. Argent says after a moment of silence, `I’m afraid Genim has shown no interest in fitting in, not that the lack of effort is any reason or right for what has happened to your son.´

 There was a quick flare of anger behind the sorrowful eyes of his son as soon as the teacher dared to mention Stiles unwillingness to fit in with the rest of the students of Beacon Hills High School.

 `I have tried to get your son interested in some of the offered activities but he has disregarded all of them without thought.´

 Stiles jumps slightly at the words and looks up at his father pleading for him to stop listening to the teacher without using a single word.

 `I had thought that if your son had chosen to join one of our many little groups of our fine school has to provide, that it might have opened up a few doors for your son Mr. Stilinski.´ Mr. Argent says, looking at Stiles as if _he_ was the concerned father.

 Alec watches as the teacher looks over at his son while he continued revealing little secrets his son had been keeping from him, `From what I can tell, and please do correct me if I am mistaken, your son has not made a single friend.´

 `Genim?´ Alec breathes out, and he feels worthless as Genim turns his gaze away from him it was something Alec had never seen Genim do with his mother.

 `There are still a few open spots at a few teams and groups, if you wish I could write down them and the dates for the tryouts.´ Mr. Argent says as he starts to write down the information, `I really do think it would be for the best Mr. Stilinski.´

 There is a small part of Alec that does believe Mr. Argent, even if he can see how much his son is against the idea. Alec had found some of his own friends through various clubs and teams such as basketball and baseball, even Claudia's best friend had been found when she has been on the swim team at her High School.

 `Joining a group would help your son befriend some of the students, as has your daughter done.´ Mr. Argent continues to say as he hands the piece of paper Alec, while smiling down at the unhappy boy.

 Mr. Argent quickly hands the piece of paper to Alec, who wasn’t aware that the teacher had left out any activities that might actually interest the young teenager. Alec looks down at the list and dates, unsure any of these will be to his son’s liking but Genim will be joining a team even if it will kill Alec in the progress.

 

****

 


	5. I Know You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paige hates her own thoughts sometimes as much as she hates the ones inside Stiles’ head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God, I wish I could just throw Peter in right about now, because I think most of you are jumping off my ship in an attempt to escape. But he will come so fear not my pretties. I swear there is a reason to all and all has a reason.
> 
> I like this chapter not just because it was effortless to write but also because it was calm and I got to play with Claudia again.

 

`Youcould always join me and Heather…´ Paige starts her back still turned to her younger brother who was sitting at the breakfast table examining her and Heather’s chemistry homework, he’d finished doing the same with their French; more often than not Paige found herself asking for her little brothers help with her homework. If she had to be honest she found it all rather embarrassing having to need her little brother to help her with homework.

 

`No.´ Stiles snaps.

 

It didn’t surprise Paige that Stiles refused her suggestion.

 

Since their mothers passing Genim hadn’t touched a cello or a piano, not even a violin, the knowledge of it would surely have broken their mother’s heart. In Paige’s opinion it was not only a shame but also a waste for Genim to abandon his great talent, if she had half of the skill he held in his long slender fingers then she would beam with pride and show it off as often as possible.  

 

Paige allowed a heavy sigh to escape her as she turned to face her little brother, and as always he was chewing on something this time it was one of his pens although he had a plate of carrot-sticks right there next to him, his eyes that were like amber were focused on the task at hand.

 

When Paige had been younger, with pigtails and unicorns on her shirts and wearing frilly-dresses, she had been angry at her brother for being as clever and quick to learn as Genim had been; before Paige had even learned the alphabet Genim could read, before she could read he could write.There had been times plenty of times when Paige had allowed her feelings of frustration to dictate the way she treated her younger brother, those moments she treated him as badly as most of the other kids around their neighborhood did. It was only when Paige’s mother had caught her telling Genim that he was a weirdo and a freak who could never make friends on his own that this very cruel behavior stopped.

 

Her mother had grabbed Paige by the arm and pulled her into their house, leaving a stunned and tearful Genim to stand alone in the garden. What had brought on her cruel words Paige could not remember, then again there had been so many words she had shouted or hissed at her little brother that had brought Genim to tears or silenced him up for what felt like hours, but the look on their mothers face was as vivid in her memory as if it had all happened just yesterday; there was anger, there was shock but above all there was deep sorrow and shame.

 

_`Paige,´ her mother had said voice strained with emotions held back tightly so she would not lose the fragile control she held, `how could you say such awful things to your brother?´_

 

_The question shouldn’t have been a surprise but it had been, and being as young as she was Paige had answered, `But mama, he is weird and no one wants to be friends with him. I didn’t lie.´_

 

_Her mother had stopped breathing for a moment while looking horrified, then her face softened with sadness as she spoke with a voice so soft and sorrowful that if Paige hadn’t seen her mother’s lips move she would have thought someone else had spoken,`What did I do so wrong to make you say such things?´ her mother had asked and the question had stunned Paige into silence even if she had had so much more to say, so many words to use when explaining to her mother how odd her little brother was._

 

_`Mama? ´_

 

_`He is awkward. He is a little bit unique.´ her mother had said with a trembling voice, `the world will treat him unkindly because most people fear what they do not understand. He will always have a hard time because people are too uncomfortable with people that are just a little bit different.´_

 

_Paige watched as her mother’s sadness was replaced with anger but her voice didn’t reveal it but her amber eyes did, `I had of course hoped that he’d be safe of prejudice and cruelty in the safety of his home and family.´ and then the words that would hunt Paige to the day she died came out from her mother, `But I was obviously wrong.´_

 

`Genim, do you really want to join something like Archery or Lacrosse? ´ Paige asks as she pushes the plate with a sandwich on it to her brother before grabbing her own and Heather’s.

 

_Please, eat,_ Paige thought as she looked at her brother who glared at the sandwich as if it had personally offended him, _take a bite or two and eat a few carrot-sticks too._

 

`No.´ Stiles admits, while turning his attention away from the sandwich and back to the mess that was Heather’s chemistry homework, `I don’t want to join anything, and dad can’t make me.´

 

_Of course he can,_ Paige thinks as she nudges Stiles’ sandwich closer to him.

 

`You should join something, ´ Heather says as soon as her first bite of her sandwich has been chewed-up and swallowed, `because you really don’t want to be friendless. If you joined…´

 

`Don’t.´ Stiles snaps and gets up, glaring at Heather before heading out of the kitchen and right back upstairs and into the room that served as his bedroom, slamming the door as he goes.

 

`Great,´ Heather sighs, frowning unhappily, `Now I’m sure to get an F.´  Heather reached for her homework, and scans through the material and all the little markings and suggestions Stiles had made, he’d barely gone through half of the first-page.

 

`Paige?´ Heather looks up at her friend, when the silence had grown uncomfortable, what she sees has her right up and out of her seat and hugging her friend who was lost the battle against tears. She hugs Paige tightly.

 

`He will be fine, Paige. I’m sure he will be fine.´ Heather says gently, not too sure about her words because she doesn’t know Paige’s little brother all that well; the only time she really has anything to dowith Stiles, the only time she really talked to the boy was over homework.

 

`You don’t know that.´ Paige cries against Heather’s shoulder, `You don’t know that. Genim has never had it easy, and now this thing with Derek.´

 

Heather sighed and moved to create some distance between her and Paige, and looked at her friend with some thought before asking, `Are you really just sad about your brother, or are you also sad about Derek? ´

 

Paige couldn’t even bring herself to understand how Heather could even suggest such a thing, how could her friend could even ask such a question? Perhaps understanding the effect the question had on Paige, Heather quick assured Paige that she wouldn’t judge her if indeed Paige was far more sad about being forced to give up on Derek for the sake of her little brother than what she was about the problem that was Genim Stilinski. Heather even confessed she might not be as strong as Paige was, she couldn’t imagine giving up someone for the sake of family.

 

`I’m a bad sister, aren’t I.´ Paige says, it’s not a question but Heather still gives an answer, `You’re not a bad sister, you can’t help your feelings.´

 

`But how could I fall for such an asshole? And why do I still wish I could call him up to just talk with him, to just ask him if we could go out to a movie or just a cup of coffee? ´ Paige’s voice rises and she hates herself even more as she speaks, because a small part of Paige wishes she didn’t have Genim to burden her life with. A small part wishes that Genim had died with Lucius or that it had been Lucius alive and there because surely he would have been less of a problem.

 

`You didn’t know, did you, about Derek and Stiles? ´ Heather asks while going back to hugging Paige who shakes her head. Of course Paige had known things weren’t going well at school for her brother, but she hadn’t known about the part Derek had played in it.

 

The hug does not last long as Paige’s phone goes off, and Paige picks up the trembling device that is suddenly so loud within the silence of the kitchen. Paige answers the call without even taking a look to see who’s calling her, while Heather reaches up to dry away her tears with her own sleeve which makes a short smile flicker across Paige’s lips.

 

`Paige? ´

 

Paige nearly drops her cellphone when she hears Derek’s voice on the other end, and she breathes out, `Derek? ´

 

**~*~**

 

Stiles collapses on his matrass, feeling angry and trapped, he pulls out his phone from his backpack where it stayed when he was home and when he was at school because he really had no need for it unless he tried calling Scott; which he tried once again, and yet again his friend didn’t pick up and for the first-time Stiles decided to skip leaving a message and just threw the phone to the other end of the room. As he laid there the feeling of his anxiety growing had him crawling over to his desk, everything was telling him he was going to have one more panic attack that week and that would just not do, Stiles had homework to finish. Stiles began to search for the small wooden box with the delicate carvings of wolves running around the sides on the lid; his mother had bought him this box when Stiles had gone through his faze of obsessing over wolves it came soon after he stopped with his dinosaur obsession. Inside the box were the things he needed, the blades, the antiseptic wipes and liquids, there were bandages of various sorts.

 

With shaking hands Stiles placed the box on his desk chair while pulling down his sweatpants until the pale skin of his thighs came to view as did all the healed cuts that marked the area. Stiles had started cutting soon after he had his first panic attack alone; he had been in the middle of the attack when he dropped the glass of water he had been drinking, and then suddenly he was on his hands and knees feeling a strange flood of calm wash over him as he watched the blood on the floor and then on the pal of his hand, there had been a throbbing pain there and he focused on the pain and the blood and before he knew it the feeling that had brought him down on the floor was gone, because Stiles was who he was it didn’t take much for his brain to connect the dots.

 

Stiles cleaned the area he was determined to use and then doing the same with the blade, this helped slow down the advancing panic attack, by the time he was ready his hand was a bit more stable but his breaths came in with gasps and his heart was trying to escape his useless body; as soon as the blade sank his nerve endings exploded and his heartbeat began to slow and he could breathe, as he pulled the blade across the area and the blood began to rise the shaking stopped and the tears ended, and he felt a calm was over him as he watched at the damage he had done. He really doesn’t need to cut the second time, but he always does it in twos so although he feels calm he cuts himself once more, and sits for a while just staring at the blood rising to the surface.

 

When Stiles finally gets to patching himself up, cleaning the blade once more and placing his precious little secrets into the box and pulled his pants back up just in time to nearly have a heart attack when Paige knocks at his door.

 

He sits down on his the chair and makes it look like he had been working on his homework instead of what he had actually been up too.

 

`What? ´ His voice is even and calm, and he knows why, he is still riding on the wave of calm his actions had given him. He looks up at a very nervous and guilty looking Paige; she was holding the small plate of carrot-sticks and the sandwich.

 

`Genim, I…´ Paige starts as she steps further inside the room, but Stiles cuts her off sharply by telling her to stop calling him Genim and she sighs out, `I’m sorry.´

 

Paige walks over to him and places the plate down on the desk, as well as a glass of milk, there is a new addition on the plate; the pills he should take, which tells Stiles his sister is going out and not coming back until much later.

 

`Going out? ´ He asks although he knows the answer, an answer that was confirmed with a short nod from his sister.

 

`I could stay, if you need me.´ Paige says, her voice sounds strange and it makes Stiles study her for a moment.

 

`But you want to go.´ Stiles says and Paige looks shocked by his words, but she can’t deny it well enough to convince Stiles otherwise and so he tells her to go and promises to take his medication but refusing to promise he will eat.

 

When Stiles hears the front-door close he takes his medication which he hopes will one day be reduced to only a few instead of the four different ones he now swallows bitterly, he takes his vitamins with a bit more ease and empties the glass of milk before carrying the empty glass and the sandwich and the sack of carrot-sticks that have only lost two of their brothers. He dumps the rest of the carrot-sticks and the untouched sandwich amongst the trash, digging them into the middle of the trash so that no one will see what he has not done; Stiles knows his mother would not be pleased with his action, and he knows she would be unhappy about her family not recycling, and Stiles does feel guilty and promises his mother that they will start to recycle soon.

 

Stiles washes the dishes left in the sink, why waste time on placing them in the dishwasher when there are only three plates and glasses two knives to wash, and doing the washing will give him something to do. Stiles moves to cleaning the kitchen and then to taking care of some laundry, before he decides to get ready for bed; he washes his face and teeth, before crawling into bed wearing the same sweatpants as before and the t-shirt he had been sleeping in for the past week or so.

 

As he lays there in the dark, he begins to imagine his mother sitting the next to him like she had so often done when he was feeling restless or unhappy; he never told her and tried to not to show her how useless he was, but his mother had always known when he needed her.

 

_`How? ´ Genim asked, eyes closed allowing his mother’s gentle hands to soothe out the worries that plagued him, her long slender fingers combing through his hair and fingertips rubbing his scalp, the other hand gently stroking his arm that was wrapped tightly around the plush-wolf he had yet to give up even if he was already a young man of twelve._

 

_`Mothers always know, my little spark.´ Claudia Stilinski had said as she leaned down to kiss the worry off of her sons brow, `I always know, so stop trying to hide little one.´_

 

 


	6. Just Run

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There was no catching a break for Stiles Stilinski, life was simply determined to toss him around like a ragdoll before dumping him in a deeper pool of mud and shit than before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Coach Brier has been replaced with Coach Finstock because I love Finstock. Coach Brier was the original coach for this fic, but because I love Finstock I just had to off Brier and bring in my favorite coach, so this chapter is ever so slightly different from the original story (my friend didn’t want Finstock in the story, I know she has no taste what so ever). In my version, Bobby “Cupcake” Finstock has only now started his brilliant life as an educator of young minds, and he is the glorious soul who introduces the heathens of Beacon Hills to the glorious sport of Lacrosse (Stop it Cupcake, let me write), and he is not the old fart Coach Brier was (yes, my dove if you are reading this you are now aware of my opinion).

 

No matter how much Stiles had been reading up on Lacrosse or watched clips from various games, nothing could ever have prepared him for Coach Finstock and his rather eccentric way of sorting out the vast assortment of guys trying their luck at joining Beacon Hills first Lacrosse team, most of them were there because they had been rejected from other teams such as basketball and the swim team; others were there because they had no other choice and only a handful were there because of a genuine interest in the sport, some had been order to attend with the pain of detention (Coach Finstock had spent the previous week threatening each male that wasn’t already attached to another team with detention, Greenberg got “detention” for dropping his pen during Econ).  Half of them were sorted out by a simple pop-quiz the coach handed them the moment they arrived and if you got a five of ten questions wrong you were out (this system was a fine idea because of the detention threat there were over thirty people standing there waiting for to either be on the team or told to leave), Stiles had soaked in enough knowledge to get through the pop-quiz without much effort.

 

Stiles wasn’t too keen on trying-out for the Lacrosse team, but it was either this or Archery which meant spending one more hour with Mr. Argent and that was just not something Stiles was ready to do, Stiles would rather face Finstock wrath than feel like he was something Mr. Argent wanted to dissect. Even his dad had been pleased with his choice, not that his father would ever admit not liking Mr. Argent.

 

The second-part was that of weeding out those with endurance and those without, coach had them running around the field until ten bodies gave in and collapsed or simply fell-short of the group; Stiles had continued running for the ache and pain of it, not because he wanted to be in the final round.

 

The third-round was one that ended with no one getting cut, each of them were asked to try score at least once while Finstock was in the goal; but even if you didn’t you were still in for the last round, and if that hadn’t been the case then Stiles would have been off the team before ever really being on it.

 

Stiles had managed to stay in for the last round, which had surprised him as much as it had coach Finstock and his father. The last round was one of chaos that was in the form or unreasonable tackles and running; the idea was that each of them had to played the part of the ones being chased and the ones doing the chasing, Stiles didn’t get caught and tackled before the whistle blew.

 

Stiles cheeks burn with an unwanted blush that had grown the entire time his father had been encouraging him with loud shouts and cheers.  The shouts had grown when Stiles succeeded in the tasks given; he wasn’t great but he wasn’t too bad, because he was quick on his feet and got up quickly after being made well-acquainted with the ground beneath his feet.

 

Paige and Heather were sitting on the bleachers with his dad. Even if Paige hade the previous day and a larger part of the night trying to convince Stiles not to waste his time trying-out for the Lacrosse team; because what if Stiles got hurt or  broke his fingers or did some other damage that would harm his talent. But even if she didn’t want Stiles to try his luck with Lacrosse, she was still there to show her fragile support. Heather had grumbled about the early hour and about being dragged out of bed way too early for her liking just to watch idiots run around on a Saturday morning, but when she caught sight of a few of the boys she had her eyes on her mood changed. Most of the other boys didn’t have a single person around hollering their name, while Stiles had three and that really didn’t make him very popular.

 

Coach Finstook didn’t even bother to call them all together before starting to shout out, `If your name isn’t called out then you are not on the team.´ Stiles froze in his tracks, and was rewarded for his quick stop by being tackled to the ground by O’Leary one of the boys who had made punching Stiles in the stomach an art-form.

 

One by one names were dropped, there was no real order to it, and so everyone just stood there and waited for their name to fall out of the thin lips. Everyone except for Stiles who wished his wouldn’t come out but Stiles had no such luck.

 

`Bilinski!´

 

It took Stiles a moment to understand that he was Bilinski, and when he did he felt sick and ready to walk right up to his coach and ask him to choose someone else, but with Paige and his dad watching him and hugging each other like Stiles had suddenly singlehandedly won the championship; he still couldn’t do it when he imagined the look of disappointment that would flicker across his father’s face, and his father would force him to stay on the team and Stiles didn’t have the strength to fight this issue.

 

While walking over to the bleachers after Coach Finstock told them in less than encouraging words what was expected from them and how many days and hours in the week they had to spend listening to him hollering at them on the field, Stiles wondered if he could injure himself well enough to be unable to participate or if he was lucky then maybe O’Leary would do it for him.

 

Paige barreled into Stiles with a very excited shout and hugged him tightly, a hug Stiles didn’t respond to.

 

`I take back everything I said about Lacrosse.´ Paige said as she squeezed her arms around the thin body of her brother, `I’ll learn to appreciate it, and I will be at every game and as many…´

 

`Don’t. ´ Stiles said struggling to free him from his sister’s hold, `I think it would be just a waste of time.´

 

`Oh, come on, Bright.´ Heather said as she walked up to Stiles and Paige, throwing her arm over Stiles shoulder as soon as he escaped Paige’s hold, `You were fast. You maybe skinny as hell, and not too strong, but you’ve got speed and agility where the rest of the team has mass and brutality.´ Heather was talking to Stiles but her eyes were following a few of the other boys, `The coach would be an idiot to let you sit on the bench the whole season.´

 

Stiles shrugs Heathers arm off his shoulder, only to become trapped by his father’s hug that feels suffocating, he can almost feel the joy and the sense of pride his father feels just through the hug alone.

 

` You made the team, son! You were great, son. I’m so proud of you.´

 

`Fine.´ sighed while trying to get free from yet another suffocating hug, `Can we go home now? ´ the arms release him almost as if his words or body had burned his father.

 

`Okay, kiddo.´ his father said, still wearing a smile although it was somewhat weaker from what it had been, and although Stiles had rejected the physical contact there was still such pride in his father’s eyes so much so that it hurt the teenager to see it directed towards him.

 

`We should celebrate.´ Alec Stilinski said, there was such excitement in his voice that made Stiles’ insides churn.

 

`We need to get Bright a cake.´ Heather suggests, getting her cellphone out and ready to call her mother for a favor but Stiles tells her not too, because him getting on the team was really nothing to celebrate.

 

`Fine, no cake.´ his dad says and for a moment Stiles thinks he’s safe but then his father says, `We should do something special for dinner tonight.´

 

`Will you all just stop.´ Stiles snaps, and glares at his father and sister and Heather who is calling his mother and talking about strawberries, `I don’t want you people to make this into something it’s not.´ Then he turned to walk away, `I don’t need a ride. I’ll run to the house.´

 

`No. No you’re not.´ Stiles hears his dad say before strong hands grab him by the arm, `You just ran around for an hour, without taking a break.´

 

`I’m fine.´ Stiles says although his legs are aching.

 

`Son, I’m driving you home.´ his dad has his cop-voice on, and Stiles knows not argue with his father when that voice comes out.

 

`Fine.´ Stiles snaps, but growls, `But I don’t want to celebrate this.´

 

**~*~**

 

Stiles didn’t want to celebrate his “success” but it seemed that the trend that had been set nearly a year ago continued. Heather’s brother had dropped of two small cakes of which one was a simple strawberry cake with whipped cream and the other a chocolate cake, while Paige had been making Spaghetti Bolognese from scratch and not from jar or a can like she usually did and Alec Stilinski had managed to secure a few hours off work to come home. Stiles glared at the dining room table that was usually stacked with this and that but which had been now cleared up, the table was set with candles and Paige had brought out the fine china that had been greatly cherished by their mother who had always told them the story of how they had managed to gather the set by buying one plate at a time and it took six months until Claudia Stilinski had been satisfied with the amount of plates, cups etc. But their mother had been so very proud of her hand-painted china and had cried the time their father had dropped one of the plates by accident and it cracked.

 

`Let’s eat.´ his father announced while stepping into the room carrying the bowl of salad Paige had made with very little effort, and Paige followed with a much larger bowl of Spaghetti Bolognese wearing an equally cheerful appearance. Stiles took his seat at the table and looked at the food and the cakes with growing anxiety barely hearing anything his father was saying, Stiles was aware that the speech was about him but it mattered not as he was trying to come up with ways with which he could avoid eating too much; as soon as his father had stopped talking Paige started to serve them and Stiles’ heart sank.

 

Stiles eats a little, just so that the good mood everyone else is in doesn’t shatter, and because he needs to focus on what he is doing his misses most of what is said as he tries to keep his mind from telling his body to reject what he puts in his mouth; it is delicious but it feels like too much.

 

When Stiles has finished about half of the serving on his plate it’s time for cake, he’s too afraid to bring a downer on the evening by telling them he feels sick, so he takes the large piece of chocolate cake Heather hands him and eats it while feeling is stomach churn and protest loudly to the delicious treat; Stiles can feel his father and sister watching him and smiling at each other, and he feels bad about what will happen the moment he gets a chance to be alone.

 

Stiles gets his moment to empty his stomach while taking out the trash, it’s one of his jobs this week and is glad for it as he empties his stomach in the bag before dumping it in the large and slightly beat-up trash can, the relief he felt once the heaviness inside of him made him laugh until he realized how much of miserable madness there lay in the sound, his bony hands covered his mouth and he looked around fearful someone might have heard him.

 


	7. No Trust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Run, was all his mind told him to do. Run, leave them all behind was all he wanted to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, a little bit more of creepy Gerald in this one, and I do apology for the lizard reference to those who are like myself rather fond of reptiles my Dove does not appreciate their beauty as I do so the unkind words fits her way of thinking better than mine own; so to all you people who do not find lizards, snakes or frogs creepy or ugly I feel your pain!
> 
> And more Finstock!

 

`Mr. Stilinski.´ Mr. Argent’s voice was sickly sweet like it so often was when he wanted something or demanded something, it was enough to make Stiles cringe, `Do stay for a chat.´

 

Stiles groaned while watching as the other students drifted out of the classroom whispering and glancing at him oddly, everyone knew that to be asked to stay behind after class was far worse than just being handed detention in the middle of class by Mr. Argent.

 

The entire class had been allowed to watch as Mr. Argent had berate Stiles for the smallest thing from the second he’d entered the classroom to the moment the bell had rung, it had all been enough to clue everyone in that something was up between Mr. Argent and Stiles; anyone could tell something was really amiss between the two from the way Mr. Argent had changed in regards to Stiles, until now Stiles Stilinski had been considered to be one of Mr. Argent’s favorite students. Seeing Stiles fall from grace had bemused the others in class greatly, and if anyone snickered or laughed when the teacher humiliated Stiles the older man appeared uncharacteristically deaf and blind too it.

 

Derek hovered by the door for a while until Mr. Argent glared at the teenager. For four days Derek hadn’t touched Stiles or spoken to him and it made Stiles feel a little-bit on the edge, like he knew something big was coming and all he wanted to do was to hide only to find unable act according to instincts rooted deep within him.

 

Mr. Argent walked over to the door and closed it with a strange amount of hostility oozing from every fiber of his being, Stiles had a strange feeling the hostility wasn’t this time directed towards him but Derek who looked almost reluctant to allow the closing of the door, but who was Derek Hale to stand against a teacher and their rights?

 

`I hear you’ve joined the Lacrosse team.´ Mr. Argent said as he walked over to where Stiles was standing, there was something about the way the man moved and tilted his head that made Stiles think of a lizard and not a cure cartoon lizard but an ugly-ass reptile.

 

 `Now, why would you do such a thing, when there were other activities far more noble and useful for a young man like you?´ Mr. Argent is uncomfortably close and although he has scolded his appearance into what could be easily fooled as a kind-hearted elderly person, but Stiles doesn’t trust the way the man can shift from being clearly pissed-off at him to all caring the next second; Stiles has been tricked by people like Gerald Argent before and will not be that ignorant and blind ever again.  

 

Stiles turns his gaze away from the older man, he needs to avoid the piercing and all-knowing gaze of Mr. Argent, for Stiles really doesn’t need the man to know how little he truly trusts the man. Stiles contemplates the proper answer, an answer that might please Mr. Argent enough not to continue making him feel like he was a useless shit. Knowing the type of man Gerald Argent is, knowing how capable the man is at spotting a lie demands Stiles to decide to use what could be considered a partial-truth as much as a partial-lie.

 

Allowing an answer with some truthfulness to leave him, Stiles gazed through the window, `I didn’t want to risk hurting someone, sir.´

 

Stiles doesn’t need to look at Mr. Argent to know that his words were not what the man had been prepared for, Stiles would give himself a pat on the back.

 

`You think I would allow you to hurt someone, Genim?´ Mr. Argent asks as he lays his heavy hand against Stiles’ brittle shoulder, sounding almost as hurt by the thought as his father had been when Stiles had to tell him about how miserable he had been for the past few weeks, `I would never allow that, dear boy.´

 

The heavy touch felt like a terrible weight that wanted to force Stiles into the ground, and Stiles couldn’t help how his eyes traveled up to gaze into those cold-steel colored eyes that appeared to try and will him to obey.

 

`You’ve seen me sir,´ Stiles says fighting the urge to flee, `I can barely walk from one class to another without tripping on my own two feet, I’m a hazard.´ Stiles tries to keep his voice steady and calm although he felt everything but.

 

There’s a gentle squeeze on his shoulder while Mr. Argent speaks gently to him, but there is also a hidden strength there as well as demand which could have gone amiss by anyone else who hadn’t spent many years watching people and learning this and that about human nature.

 

 `With some training those traits can be removed, dear boy.´ there is another gentle squeeze before the older man continues, `It would take time and much effort on your part, but it could be done.´ with another squeeze, Gerald Argent continues to speak with a voice that could have drawn in someone less jaded than Stiles, `You would do so well, dear boy.´

 

Stiles wants to shrug the hand on his shoulder off of him and walk out of the classroom before he was sick all over the fine shoes of Mr. Argent, the bullshit was become too much to bare.

 

`You should consider quitting the team,´ the suggestion feels more like a demand to Stiles, and perhaps indeed it is a demand and not a simple suggestion, `I have a spot still free amongst my archers.´

 

_Of course you do,_ Stiles thinks almost rolling his eyes at the almost innocent way the offer is made.

 

`I could mold you into something great, after I’m done no one will dare to bruise you.´ The words the man speaks, the promises offered, are very tempting. Of course Stiles would love it, not having to be afraid of going to school or walking home alone. Stiles would almost do anything to have his body free from bruises caused by his fellow classmates. The temptation is so great that Stiles nearly grasps at it, takes it with both hands, but seeing who it is that offers him a chance to live a life where no one would dare to harm a hair on his head is a man his young gut tells him not to trust.

 

Being the son of a police officer, being the son of man who trusted his gut-instinct more than the evidence his eyes could see, Stiles had learned to trust his own instincts and those instincts warned him against taking Gerald Argents offer. Stiles just knew no good would come from handing himself over to Mr. Argent.

 

`I can’t. ´ Stiles says as he makes a move to leave, shrugging the hand off of his shoulder, `My dad won’t let me.´

 

`I could talk to him, if you wish.´ Mr. Argent says softly, but Stiles says with a heavy sigh, `Thank you, but no.´

 

Stiles has just escaped Mr. Argent, the door to the classroom barely closed, when Derek Hale grabs him by the neck and starts to drag him into one of the many empty classrooms of Beacon Hills High School. The moment Stiles felt the familiar hold on the back of his neck, he felt fear explode within him but he fought against it while allowing himself to be manhandled away from prying eyes. Stiles knew that trying to fight it would make his punishment for existing far worse than what it would be if he just went with the flow of things.

 

Stiles understood how wrong it was that he knew how to act to ease his plight slightly, it just made him feel weaker and that was not something he honestly needed to feel any more than he already did; but his instinct not be hurt further was much stronger than his pride.

 

With familiar force Hale pushes Stiles into the classroom and away from him, there was always that slight feeling of disgust in the way Derek pushed Stiles away from his close proximity, it was just one more thing that convinced Stiles that he was worthless and undesirable in a world of the living. Being treated like something putrid by almost everyone had him crying into his pillow after every day of surviving High School. 

 

Stiles stumbles and crashes into one of the many desks, the impact knocks out the air from his body as successfully as a punch in the gut would. The miserable little whimper that escapes him hurts almost as much as the violent contact his body had with the desk. Still, none of this was new to him.

 

`Stay away from Mr. Argent.´ The older teenager says while glaring at Stiles while the younger boy looks around the room, he is rather surprised to find that there are only two souls in the room, the souls of a Hale and a Stilinski. It is all very strange considering that all the other times this very scene has played out there have been various people that hanged around Derek like lovely little pet’s, they had always been there to help Derek with the humiliation of one Stiles Stilinski. There were always people there to assure the bullying of Stiles play out successfully or for there to at least be an audience to enjoy Hale and his closest of friends beat and belittle Stiles to tears. This is all very strange indeed even without Derek’s order, and order that is too peculiar to let pass without questioning it.  

 

`Why?´ Stiles asks while moving further away from Derek, even if he is alone in the room with Derek Hale there is nothing about the situation to ease the fear inside of the younger teenager. Knowing that Hale can hurt him as badly as a group of teenagers can, keeps the youngest Stilinski on high-alert even when knowing that it will not help him from getting his ass-kicked.

 

`Just stay away from him, Stilinski.´ Derek snaps at him it makes Stiles jump, then Hale looks confused and for a moment it looks like he his sniffing the air that surrounds him.

 

`Fine.´ Stiles says with wishing his submission would be enough to leave him lightly bruised.

 

Derek glares at him, then nods and steps aside from the closed door before telling Stiles to get out.

 

Expecting to feel pain at any moment has Stiles moving cautiously past the older teenager, one thing Stiles had learned during the past month was the fact that Derek was fast surprisingly fast; sometimes Stiles wondered if there was something supernatural about the way Derek could move without making a sound and how fast those very movements were, he wondered about the strength that always felt like it was held back while he kicked and beat Stiles to the ground.

 

Stiles has been more than once allowed to think his in the clear, allowed to reach the door before being pulled back in for another beating or the lashing of cruel tongues, he has been so close to be free only to feel a punch land just inches away from freedom. He remembers all these times as he walks past Derek, lays his hand on the handle and opens the door, he waits for pain.

 

But the strike never comes.

 

It is all very peculiar.

 

**~*~**

 

The day drones on and on. There’s a blooming headache and unpleasant shivers shoot through Stiles’ body, and by the time he walks into the locker-room he truly feels like shit. His _team mates_ are already wearing their Lacrosse gear beaming at one another as it slowly dawns on them that they are actually on the team. Stiles moves to the back of the room, where no one else has set up camp, and stares down at the protective gear his dad had so happily bought him talking to the sells-clerk for far too long and asking this and that; his dad had been so happy and proud while Stiles stood quiet and ashamed as the clerk made sure each item fit him, his dad had wanted Stiles to have the best of the best even if it hit his bank account hard. The fact that his father wasted his hard-earned cash on the Lacrosse gear made it so that Stiles could not quite the team; perhaps his father had known this when he insisted they didn’t buy second-hand stuff?

 

_`God you’re skinny.´ the young man who looked like he should have been lounging on a beach somewhere had said while shaking his head and helping Stiles with figuring out how to put all the protective gear on the right way, `You need to bulk-up a little buddy.´  Stiles hadn’t felt the advice needed his response so he kept silent until the man decided to make the moment even worse the clerk had asked Stiles about all the bruises that had covered his body, Stiles didn’t feel the need to lie to the stranger who obviously saw how ugly Stiles was answered, `Bullies.´_

 

_There had been a sad look in the pale-blue eyes and a short nod and nothing more was said between the two. Not until everything was bought and Stiles and his dad were leaving the store, which was when the man called out to Stiles, `Hey, kid! Keep your head-up.´_

 

Stiles looked over at a few of his team-mates, their bodies so much firmer and stronger than his. Stiles wished he could undress in private, somewhere where there would be no risk for anyone else seeing the ugly body hiding beneath clothes that were several sizes too big. Stiles was aware that he wasn’t fat, he was also aware that he had lost some weight, and he was well aware that his body was absolutely unattractive to look at and that was why Stiles wasn’t too keen to get undressed in front of other people that might see him and find a new source to torment him with; you just needed one picture and send it off to everyone and then all the students of Beacon Hills High School would know how ugly Stiles Stilinski really was.

 

The thought makes Stiles heart race and he realizes as his breathing becomes erratic that he’s one step away from having a panic attack, he tries to block out the terrifying thought of everyone seeing his half-naked ass and tries to focus his thoughts on what he had learned to day at school. He thinks about nearly throwing up when the smell from the cafeteria hit him, he thinks about the time he spent at the library finishing his homework and he thinks about the stupid swim team captain who had decided to “accidentally” spill his Gatorade over Stiles as the two walked to class. He thinks about how Gerald Argent had continued through the week to try and convince Stiles to quit the team and join his own.

 

`BILINSKI! ´

 

Stiles snapped out of his thoughts, he had frozen in a position between removing his stained graphic T-shirt and not. Stiles turned to look at his coachand realized that the locker room was empty, but he could still hear the team nearby hearing them make their way out onto the field.

 

`You alright?´ coach asks as he moves towards Stiles who gives a short nod and hurriedly apologizes for taking so long to get changed, but before his words have truly exited his mouth there is an unfamiliar hand on his forehead.  there is a hand on his forehead and there was a constipated look on the coaches face.

 

`Christ Bilinski, ´ coach says stepping back and running his hands up and down the sides of his thighs, there is a constipated look on the man’s face, `Head on home Bilinski, before you pass out on the field.´ Then the man who had a problem with remembering people and their names, snapped at Stiles, `And eat something.´ Then Coach Finstock walked out of the locker room hollering out, ` What are you all a bunch of snails!? My grandmother can move faster than you lot on speed! ´

 

Stiles sighs while gathering up his things, he knew where Paige and Heather would be and so he makes his way towards the room devoted to the art of music, he is half-way there when he realizes there are no familiar sounds of strings and cords vibrating out fine sounds. The lack of sounds worries Stiles who quickens his steps, feeling his stomach churn not from worry but something else instead, and the cold that has slowly been growing beneath his skin intensifies and Stiles’ body shivers and all he wants is to get warm again.

 

Pushing the door open Stiles wished that the two girls were alright and that he could ask Heather who had just got her driver-license if they could head home, instead of finding some looming crisis in the making that would lead for them to stay at the school a while longer.

 

What he finds behind the door was far worse than he had even imagined and it stuns him entirely.

 

Paige is sitting on Derek Hale’s lap. His sister is sitting there in the room alone with one Derek Hale. His sister is making out with one of the boys that had made Stiles time at Beacon Hill’s a living Hell. His sister knows this, all of it. Stiles had told her everything he had done to Stiles.

 

Well, not everything because he couldn’t bring himself to relive every humiliation.

 

The sounds the two are making make’s Stiles feel like throwing up right where he is standing, but he can’t do anything but stare at his sister, it feels like forever before she comes up for air and when she does there is a pleased smile on her beautiful face; a smile that breaks when her eyes wander towards Stiles who bolts out of the room, dropping everything he had been carrying.

 

Stiles ran as fast as he could manage with risking falling flat on his face, he ran because he really didn’t want to see his sister. He really doesn’t want to talk to her or hear her speak. He runs even if his body aches and protests at what he is demanding from it. Stiles doesn’t stop until his legs give out and he hits the ground on all fours and empties his stomach of what little he had placed inside it hours ago, Stiles hadn’t noticed that it was raining not until he was there down on his knees on the soaking ground shivering and heaving, gasping for air and sobbing from the ray of emotions; hurt, betrayal, sadness, anger all just exploding inside him.

 

There is a very small voice in Stiles head that tells him over and over again that he shouldn’t be surprised by what his sister had done, what she had been doing. But even if he’s not that surprised by it, it hurts and makes him doubther and their bond. Stiles can hear Paige’s voice, the haunting memory of it still so fresh and painful, telling him how little she cared for him and reminding him that he was nothing more than a freak and a weirdo; telling him he was ugly and stupid, telling him no one really liked him and telling her Scott was just his friend because of their mothers.

 

It pained him more to know that Paige had been right about Scott, and everything else.  

 

Stiles sobs his hearts sorrow and his souls wrath into the moist ground until he can’t anymore because the exhaustion he has been feeling finally demands him to stop. He drops on the ground on his back, aware that his body is strangely numb and how much he just wants to close his eyes and fall asleep. But his mind is still there warning him of the dangers of giving in to the want.Stiles turns his head to look around, while digging out his mobile he glares down at the information glaring at him; five missed calls and five voice mails all of them from Paige. He disregards them all and dials a familiar number, hoping a familiar voice will bring some comfort to his miserable life but Scott doesn’t pick up and Stiles is reduced back to tears.

 

Stiles clutches the device that should have helped him stay in contact with Scott, he presses it to his chest as he cries, he can feel the moment the phone starts to vibrate in his hand, hope flickers in his heart. Stiles looks at the glowing screen, wishing for Scott’s to be the one calling him, but it’s not.  It’s Paige and so he ignores it.

 

He sits back up and forces himself to get up and walk home, he doesn’t want his sister to alarm their father with some story that will have Stiles back sitting in some dull room with a shrink that thinks they’ll be able to help him by charging his father ridiculous amounts of money; none of the previous ones had done much else than convince Stiles that he was far more intelligent and devious than any of them, and all of them thought stuffing him full with drugs that were supposed to help him but more often than not left him feeling completely numb.

 

 He’s nearly halfway to the house when a car comes to a slow stop by the side of the road from him, the sound of car-doors opening and closing with haste startles him slightly but not enough to stop him from continuing to move onwards. He hears his name called out by none other than Derek Hale, it’s enough to stop him like someone had pushed the pause button on the control that dictated his movements and actions.  For a moment Stiles just stands still, trying to figure out what’s going on.

 

Realizing it’s raining Stiles decides to get back to walking. He needs to get home, to a house that really isn’t his home, before he freezes to death or drowns.  

 

`We’ve been looking for you.´ Derek says while making his way towards Stiles who just decides to continue walking and pretending there is no such thing as a Derek Hale in his life tonight.

 

`Hey! Wait! ´ Derek called out as he ran up to Stiles, grabbing him by his forearm and forcing Stiles to turn around and face him.

 

There is a look of shocked that flashes across Derek’s face when the two come face to face, even Stiles who feels like his brain has been replaced by pudding see it and recognizes it as shock. It is all a rather strange look on Derek Hale’s face.  

 

`You’re soaked.´ Derek says with a voice that is barely above a whisper, his expression slowly morphing into a scowl, `Come on, we’ll drop you home.´

 

Stiles really hadn’t noticed that he was soaking wet from head to toe, but still he shrugs his shoulders before answering, `I-I’m a-al-already so-soaked,´  each word is a struggle to say with his teeth chattering and with his brain feeling like it was stuffed with cotton, each word felt too heavy on his tongue that felt limp and useless in his mouth, `W-wha-what’s a li-little mo-more.´ Stiles can feel his lips move, creating a ugly little smile that isn’t really a smile at all not even a smirk but something more like a demented twitch of his face.

 

`Don’t be stupid,Stilinski! ´ Derek snaps before starting to drag him over to the waiting car, completely ignoring Stiles attempts to get away and free himself from Derek’s brutish hold. ` Get. In. The. Car. Stilinski.´

 

Derek manhandles Stiles into the backseat of the car. Stiles groans as his body is forced to move against its will, he rests his head against the cold window as soon as Derek closes the car door on him and walks around to the other side before getting in. Derek shoves something soft at him, but Stiles ignores it and allows his body and mind to rest, ignoring Derek and his demands for attention.

 

`Fuck, Derek, ´ afemale voice says from the front, `He looks sick.´

 

`Just drive Laura.´ Derek snaps before his voice goes softer, Stiles knows even without question that Derek is talking to his sister, `Hey, I found him.´ there is a short pause and all Stiles can hear is the powerful engine of the car rumbling away like a demon cat from hell, `We’ll be there in about ten minutes. Yeah. See you soon.´

 

`You should at least try and make him comfortable you ass.´ the female voice says, sharp and mean. Derek snaps at his sister, Laura before grumbling out something about Stiles having to deal with his own shit but he goes silent when Stiles whimpers as a set of cold shivers roll through his already shivering body making every ache and throb feel ten times worse.

 

Stiles isn’t sure if he imagines it or not, but he thinks he feels a hand on the back of his neck just before some of the ache in his body starts to lessen to the point that he falls into a slumber, a slumber he is thankful for as it means he is free from the world and his useless body for a while.

 

**~*~**

 

It takes Stiles a moment to realize the car has stopped moving, to realize his outside and that someone is carrying him, it takes him a moment to recognize the frantic voice calling out his name the one his mother had bless or cursed him with. Stiles opens his eyes, but closes them quickly because a new set of dizziness hits him and his head throbs like theirs and alien inside his skull rolling around like a happy little puppy in the first blanket of snow.His body aches and he can’t figure out if he’s moving by his own freewill or not, all he knows is that breathing in and out is so exhausting that he just wants to stop.

 

`Maybe we should take him to the hospital, he’s breathing is a bit off.´ Laura’s voice comes from right beside his ear, she actually sounds worried for him. Stiles tries to protest by shaking his head but his neck hurts and his head feels too heavy so he simply makes a disgruntled sound to alert his treacherous sister to not allow these strangers to drag him to a hospital against his will. His sister does appear to understand the meaning of the pitiful sound that escapes him.

 

`No. Thank you, but no.´

 

`I really think you should let us take him.´ Laura says while the sound of a door closing startles Stiles enough to make him jump, the movement has him whimpering slightly.

 

`No, I’ll take care of him.´ Paige insists, and if everything didn’t hurt as much as it did then Stiles would have opened his eyes and rolled them and said something in the lines of “as if” or “like you cared for me while you were trying to search for Derek Hale’s soul with your tongue”.

 

`Could you please just, I don’t know,´ Paige sighs, at any other time Stiles might have felt sorry for his sister and the worry he had caused her, but considering how she was kissing and groping one Derek Hale all sense of sympathy or pity were out of the window, `could you take him upstairs, to his room? I’ll show the way.´

 

The prospect of having Derek Hale anywhere near the room he inhabited, has Stiles awaken and ready to put up a fight. Stiles would not allow one of the people who had for the past month been both verbally and physically tormenting him to see the state of “his bedroom”, it had Stiles moving with the desperate need to escape and make his own way up to the room he was forced to call his own, Stiles managed to get free from the one who had been carrying him and drop on the floor.  But it soon came to light that Stiles had been too slow to act, and by the time he fell it was too late as he heard Derek ask, `This is his room? ´ there was something strange and unfamiliar in the older teenagers’ voice.

 

`Get out.´ Stiles barked as best as he could, batting away the hands that were trying to reach out to him, he could see the hands but his brain refused to connect them to the people in the room that looked perhaps more like no one really lived there just a room into which clothes were dumped and so on, `Get out. A-a-all of y-you.´

 

`Stiles.´ Paige pleaded but Stiles refused her and just shouted at them all to get out, to leave him alone.

 

`Laura, let’s go.´ Derek said, voice still odd in Stiles’ ears, `You call me if you need anything.´ It’s clear to Stiles that Derek was directing his words to Paige and it makes him feel so angry that he screams with more fury, `GET OUT!´ The sudden flare of anger has Stiles gasping for air between coughs that if it was possible that one could cough out their lunges, it would have been a curious sight for sure to see his lungs collapse out on the floor.

 

Stiles rests his forehead against the cool floor once the coughs subside, listening but understanding nothing of what his sister is say to Derek and Laura, he could hear Paige follow the two who had invaded his personal space downstairs. Stiles pulled off his hoodie, the struggle had him in tears as the piece of clothing felt like it had attached itself to his skin, glued against it, by the time it was off he dropped it on the floor he was far too worn out to bother removing anything else and just crawled over to his _bed_ and collapsed on it. His mind told him he should properly undress but his exhaustion was far too much to have him act out what the rational part of his brain was demanding; he didn’t care if his soaking clothes drenched the bed, he just needed to get some sleep and needed to get warm.

 

He wrapped his body in his blankets and covers. A part of him knew that this wasn’t the right way but another part just didn’t care.

 

`Genim.´ Paige’s voice broke the slowly approaching sleep, her voice was timid but Stiles didn’t care and snapped at her, `Get out.´ Paige is quick to tell him that Derek and Laura had left that it was just the two of them now.

 

`I know.´ Stiles says, trying hard to keep his teeth for chattering, `get out.´

 

`Genim, please, ´ Paige starts but her little brother sits up so fast it would have fit in a horror movie and screamed with such fury that it drained all color from her face, `GET OUT! ´ He ends up coughing once more so hard that it feels like there is a large fist beating at his chest from the inside of his body, coughing makes his head hurt even worse and he can’t help but wish it would all just stop forever. Stiles could hear his sister plead with him, but he didn’t want her near him or even in the same room; she could go and fuck Derek Hale for all he cared.

 

 


	8. Reese’s and an Abomination

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reese’s Peanut Butter cups were delicious; Stiles knew this he also knew that the voices inside his head could be so very cruel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, before you continue on reading this fic I need to warn you that there are some very disrespectful words used in this chapter, words that if I ever heard anyone shouting at anyone with malice (be they straight, gay or bi) towards another human being, I would be right up there in their face (depending on my mood there might be more punches than words thrown at the bigot). I am personally of the opinion that if your gay your gay, if your straight your straight, if your bi then your bi; as long as your love is pure and true and doesn’t harm anyone then go on, the world needs more love and less hatred or this world of ours is doomed. This may all sound very childish but it is my opinion. I’m all for gay rights; why not allow two men or two women to get married considering how many of the straight couples managed to do it and screw it up royally (although I have no intentions of tying the knot, and neither did my parents and they remained together until death did them part). So, if anyone is enraged by the cruelty in this chapter then understand they are not my own opinions.

 

Peter Hale felt like a king as he walked down familiar paths, the ones he had walked years before, bathing in admiring looks he was given by those around him, rewarding some of the lovelier ladies with a smirk and a wink. Peter would have gladly given some of the young ladies his personal attention and touch, but he had promised his sister who was also his Alpha to speak with his nephew who had caused his mother grey hairs by his sudden change in behavior; Talia had hoped that Peter could get her son to open up, considering the two were so close that they were more like brothers than nephew and uncle.

 

Peter sniffed out his youngest nephew who was sitting outside in the sun, which was fortunate as it was a fine day and outside the stench of horny teenagers and other stenches that came off of the young and overly excited teenagers. Outside the stenches were less overbearing.

 

Derek was watching someone so intently that he did not even notice his uncle sit down at the little table.

 

The lack of reaction from his nephew had Peter frowning and following the path Derek’s gaze, the focus of his nephew attention was a girl with who had brown hair and eyes of the same color although there was is sadness there in those eyes that seemed to mirror that of his nephews. Peter thinks the girl pretty enough although he has seen far greater beauties than the sad-eyed girl. The stench of attraction, affection and heartbreak that flows off of Derek tells Peter the girl holds his nephews affections.

 

`I see that you’ve been keeping secrets from me, Derek.´ Peter says as he watches the girl steal a quick glance over at Derek, her cheeks flush bright pink before she turns her gaze away; she smells much like Derek does and Peter wonders why the two haven’t just got their act together, considering it is obvious the two have feelings for each other.Derek’s heart had quickened it pace at the short look from the girl, and as soon as she turned her gaze away there was a scent of distress and misery exploding from his young nephew as well as from the young girl.

 

`Start talking.´ Peter says sharply, because he hates the smell that is coming off of Derek.

 

 `What’s going on between you and that pretty little thing? ´ Peter asks with a smooth voice, looking over at the girl his nephew longed for with such intensity that it made Peter ill.

 

Derek sighs and looks over at Peter and for a moment he sits unmoving and quiet, but Peter knows he just has to wait and soon enough Derek will start talking and that he does; he starts with naming the girl, then about how he feels about her and the shorty bloomed relationship that they had. Peter listens as best he can even as Derek talks and talks about the feelings he has for the Stilinski-girl, while Peter fingers the small packaged inside one of his pockets, the knowledge of the Reese’s little treats waiting for him keep him grounded; once Derek was taken care of Peter would allow himself the little indulgent in the form of milky chocolate and peanut butter delights.

 

But then something interesting happens, or rather someone interesting comes to steal his attention away from the tale of woes and the prospect of his favorite sweets, the distraction comes in the form of young boy.

 

The boy couldn’t be much older than fourteen. The boy came walking out of the school with as much grace as a newborn giraffe.  Peter’s eyes widen at the sight of the boy who should not be in high school, not yet, the pale skin dotted with dark moles captivates him as does the face that attracts him with the doe-like eyes and up-turn of a nose as well as the lips which should in his opinion be red and swollen from hungry kisses and gentle nibbles. And by the moon, the long pale stretch of neck has Peter’s mouth salivating.

 

Before Peter has a chance to stop himself he cuts of Derek’s mind-numbing ramblings and asks, `Who is that? ´

 

`Who? ´ Derek asks, not really that interested. Peter can tell as much from the lightness in Derek’s voice. But for good measure and for the sake of decency Derek begins to try and seek the one who had taken Peter’s attention away from him, Peter helps him out by nodding in the direction of the teen who was dressed in clothes that did nothing to compliment the natural beauty he was blessed with.   

 

Derek ends up looking sick and alarmed when he catches the one who has caught Peter’s fancy.

 

From the hesitant way Derek answer’s Peter’s question tells the older werewolf that Derek would probably rather face a feral werewolf than give Peter the knowledge he seeks, `that’s Stiles, Paige’s little brother. Why? ´

 

Peter almost snorts at the ridiculous question. Derek has to know how much Peter would like to drag the boy back home and into his bed, how much Peter wants to keep the boy for hours and hours for his own pleasure. The thought of the boy on his bed naked and spread wide for Peter, and how from parted lips sweet little moans and desperate whimpers could be made to escape with a little bit of coaxing, all those deliciously sinful thoughts causes a part of Peter to stir with interest.

 

`I want him.´ Peter says voice deep with lust and hunger. Peter watches as the boy, Stiles, walks with very little grace over to one of the empty tables. Peter watches as the boy with such a peculiar name as Stiles, eyed his surroundings nervously like he was expecting someone to attack him at any moment, the thought that _his_ boy could be in danger or under threat has Peter seeing red; he will not allow anyone to harm what is _his._

 

The girl, Paige, made her way towards the boy as soon as he had settled down at the small table. Peter watched as _his_ boy ignored her even as she parked herself down next to him; Peter listened to the desperation in her voice as she tried to coax the boy to speak, but he continued to ignore her and simply began to read the book he’d fished out of his backpack.

 

`Am I to take it that Stiles has had a falling out with his sister? ´ Peter inquires, but still the look Paige sneaks in the direction of his nephew does not go unnoticed by Peter. He can see the loneliness and sadness as clearly as the longing and desire that whispers from dark eyes.

 

Peter almost felt sorry for the girl.

 

` _He_ hates me. And hates _her_ because she loves _me_.´ there was something missing from that explanation, Peter just knew it from the way Derek voice was low and held the slightest tremble at the end of every third word, he’d heard it so many times when Derek had tried to cover-up something he was ashamed of.

 

`And why does he hate you so, dear nephew?´ Peter asks as he pulls out his Reese’s, Derek looks rather startled by the question and avoids to look his uncle in the eye as he reveals the atrocities he had done to _Peter’s_   boy. To hear the brutish behavior of his nephew had Peter fighting against the urge to beat his nephew to the ground and drag him by the scruff of his neck right over to Stiles, to force Derek to beg for Stiles forgiveness to have him lick the feet of the one he had trampled down into the ground.

 

Peter doesn’t understand these frightfully powerful feelings he has towards the boy Stiles. Peter is unable to understand why he feels like he needs to protect and defend the human, or why he feels the need to punish his nephew for laying his hand on a simple human boy. It was all so very ridiculous.

 

`You’re not going to tell...´ Derek starts but Peter snaps at him, `What? You _don’t_ want me to tell _your_ mother and _our_ Alpha that you have been behaving like a soulless beast? That _you_ have treated a _human_ as your personal punching-bag? ´ Peter had tried to keep his anger from entering his voice but by the startled look on his nephews face he knows he had failed to keep his emotions under control.

 

Derek lowers his startled gaze and nods. They both knew that the moment Talia Hale ever heard about what herson had been up too that Derek would be lucky if she dished out his punishment in one swift go; but Peter had his doubts she would do so, from what little Derek had told him the punishment would last for days and Talia was very strict when it came to the behavior of the werewolves towards any human.

 

`I will keep this information close to my heart.´ Peter promised with a slight growl, Derek looked up at his uncle with such gratitude that it made something dark inside of Peter twistwith delight, but he chose to ignore it and instead focused on his desires towards the young Stilinski boy, `Butif you ever hurt him again, then you leave me with no choice Derek. Do you understand me? ´

 

Derek gave a short nod.

 

There was a part of Peter that might however never allow him to tell Talia; instead Peter might serve Derek with his own idea of justice if his nephew continued harming what was _his_.

 

There is a short passing of silence between the two during which Petertakes out his delicious treat and takes one of the Reese’s into his mouth, he watches the brother and sister; the girl was trying to convince Stiles to eat one of the cookies she had bought from the cafeteria, and Peter agrees with her that Stiles needs to eat for he is all skin and fragile bones.But the boy pushes the cookie away from himself; Peter could almost hear Paige’s heartbreak even with Derek going back to droning on about how miserable he was without Paige, Peter’s blood runs cold when he hears the girl mention that Stiles needed to eat to gain his strength back after being sick for so long.

 

` He’s been sick? ´ Peter focuses all his senses on _his_ boy, needing to know what the illness had been and if it still could be a threat to his precious boy.

 

`Stiles? ´ Peter gives a short nod, there is a short sigh that escaped Derek before the younger werewolf speaks, `Yeah, he missed a few weeks of school. I don’t really know what was wrong with him. Like I said, Paige isn’t talking to me.´

 

Peter can hear the faint sound of a still lingering infection hidden inside Stiles’ chest; Peter could hear the strange little sound that could be heard in each intake and exhale. The faint stench of the lung-infection that was still there confirmed his suspicions, the smell it hit Peter as the boy turned his head to cough a few times, and it made Peter want to wrap himself around the boy and nurse him back to health.  But opening up his sense also revealed to Peter far more than he had wished for; Peter became aware of the emotional turmoil that ran around inside _his_ boy, he can smell the ray of chemicals that told him that the boy is on various medications which worries Peter greatly, he can also tell that the young teenager is far too thin to be healthy and wonders if it is from the neglect of his family although he had his doubts about that considering how the girl Paige was trying desperately to get him to eat or perhaps caused by an illness.

 

`Peter, take my advice, ´ Derek suddenly says, just as the bell rings, `leave him alone. He’s messed up in the head.´

 

`Aren’t we all.´ Peter says, causing his nephew to huff in annoyance and frustration but Peter cares very little about what his nephew thinks to be proper behavior, especially now after hearing how Derek had behaved towards the boy who appeared to be slowly starving himself to an early grave which Peter could not permit to happen.

 

**~*~**

 

His legs are aching and he’s still feeling a bit off, but Stiles couldn’t stand staying at the house much longer not with his father watching him like a hawk which he had done since Stiles had fallen ill; his father had dragged him to see the doctor more than once when Stiles’ breathing had become more labored and his fever hit the roof, Stiles couldn’t handle his father and Paige following his every move, they made him feel even more like a prisoner of life unable to be free from the shackles that bound him to the world of the living. Stiles’ father had become rather obsessed with watching Stiles eat after the doctors had brought up Stiles’ weight, after listening to all the dangers of the shape Stiles was in Alec Stilinski had started keeping an eye on Stiles; which made it impossible for Stiles to skip meals or hurry off to the nearest toilet where he could have emptied the meals he had been forced to consume.

 

 Being at home had become rather suffocating.

 

Stiles was aware that it was a strange choice to rather get his face beaten and bruised than staying out home with his father.

 

Watching his sister head off towards her last class of the day, Stiles thought about heading off to either the library or walking home instead of waiting for his dad to pick him and Paige up, but the cool air felt far more welcoming than the stuffy on he’d fine in the library.Walking home would probably end up killing him, so Stiles decided to wait for his ride from where he was sitting. Unable to focus on the journey of words, unable to focus on the characters or the flow of conversations between them, Stiles gave up on his book and chose to set his mind to work with the calculus homework. Stiles had barely figured out what to do when a shadow fell over him and the pages of the book, his reaction is immediate and fast; Stiles jumps up while grabbing his stuff, ready to flee from the expected danger.

 

Derek Hale might have stopped beating the crap out of Stiles, for now at least, but Derek had only been one of many and there for Stiles was still everything but safe from the daily beatings. But Stiles doesn’t even get his ass of the bench before a hand comes to rest on his shoulder, Stiles jumps at the touch and looks up at the young man to whom the hand belonged too.

 

Stiles’ heart began to race at top speed and it was not only because of the rather handsome features and striking blue eyes of the young man, incredible blue eyes that looked at Stiles with such intensity that it was both exhilarating and terrifying for the teenager, but what truly set Stiles’ heart into its frantic motion was the knowledge that this person was involved with Derek Hale. And from what Stiles had seen this person looming over him and Derek Hale were close, so much so that the two had been conversing like old friends and that was something Stiles had never seen Derek Hale do with any of his friends.

 

Stiles pulls himself away from the young man, throwing the remaining junk that belonged to him into his backpack before trying to get up and rush away. Not prepared to face anything that might come his way from this stranger before him.

 

`In a hurry?´ the young man asks while keeping pace with Stiles who is heading towards the parking lot of the school while trying to send a quick message to both his father and sister about making his own way home.

 

`If not, then we could go and have a cup of coffee?´ the young man asks and suddenly offers Stiles a Reese’s peanut butter cup, and although Stiles refuses most things there is no way he can refuse that, `Want one?´

 

Stiles nods and reaches for the delicious little treat which he had so often shared with his mother; Paige and his father weren’t lovers of Reese’s sweets and therefor their house lacked of them.Stiles expected some form of violence to come as soon as his hand was close enough for the other to take advantage of, Stiles was stunned to find his action greeted with a pleased smile instead of the expected violence.

 

Stiles slips the little cup of goodness into his mouth, and can’t help the little moan that escapes him as his taste buds hum with delight, he just can’t help himself considering the last Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup had been ages ago. For a short passing moment as the chocolate melted in his mouth the rigid alertness that kept every muscle tight slipped away, his eyes drifted shut and he felt for if but for a moment a sense of calm, but this lasted only for mere seconds.

 

Stiles blushes fiercely when he realizes that the stranger was watching him with what could only be described as hungry eyes, and Stiles was suddenly convinced he might not get beaten-up into a bloody mess but that there were no guaranties he wouldn’t dragged off into the woods where Stiles would be violated by this stranger person before him; and the images of himself bent down and ravished by the older boy caused Stiles to blush even further while his dick twitches with interest, the slight movement horrified him as much as his imagination did.  

 

`Perfect combinations are rare in an imperfect world.´ the stranger says with a voice so delicious sinful that Stiles nearly swallows his tongue in shock, and when there is a knowing smiling on the lips of the young man who inches towards Stiles, eyes so intense that only true madness could conjure such power, it is all too much for Stiles who is running off and away from the person who makes him think and want things he should not desire.

 

Stiles doesn’t want to be a faggot, he doesn’t want to prove Derek right by drooling after his friend. No, Stiles is not gay or Bi or anything else than straight.

 

`Wait.´ the strange calls out, but Stiles ignores it and hastens his steps while the tainting voices inside his head spur him onwards faster and faster. He may not be all normal and good, but he will not be something abnormal and wicked.

 

_Faggot._

 

The voices are so clear and cruel that if his surroundings were so free of students he might have mistaken them for real.

 

_Homo._

 

Shaking his head at the words lashing at him, Stiles continued to fight the tears escaping from him without his permission. Stiles refused to believe those mean words that haunted him; he refused simply because he was _not_ gay. He _can’t_ be. He _can’t_ be anymore fucked up than what he already is; he _has_ to marry a girl and he _has_ to have children so his father can be proud of him, and if he can’t even manage that much then Stiles might as well drop dead.

 

_Cocksucker._

 

Stiles hears the car, he hears his name being called out with alarm and he sees the BMW hardtop come at him with determination and he sees the shocked and terrified expression of the driver; a cheerleader called Amanda, she’s talking to someone on her new phone but it drops as their eyes connect, both of them aware that there is nothing she can do to stop the impact from taking place and neither can he.  

 

_Abomination._

 

Arms wrap around him suddenly and they pull him against a firm body, so tightly that it hurts, and the world is suddenly thrown into a confusing motion that stops suddenly leaving Stiles to face the clear blue sky above.

 

Stiles can hear the car screech to a stop and with Amanda repeating the Lords name over and over again, her voice panicky and as always irritating.  Stiles can hear the click and clack of Amanda’s heels as she approaches him cautiously and with unsteady steps.

 

_You gay piece of shit, you are an abomination and you should be glad your mother is dead, because at least when she’s dead she won’t have to go through life with an evil-little-shit like you._

 

Stiles can’t help the tears that start to fall as the vicious words of his cousin rings in his ears, the words still hurt much more than anything anyone had ever said to him before.

 

`Stiles? ´ a male voice asks, the voice was laced with concern and the words were spoken so close to his ear that Stiles could feel the moment they were born against his skin and ear.

 

Amanda was kneeling down beside Stiles and the one beneath his trembling body, nervous hands trembling and wanting to touch but too afraid too. Her face tearstained and her skin sickly pale, her mouth moving fast as she spoke with a trembling and high-pitched voice, `Oh God, are you hurt? Should I call an ambulance? I should, I should call one. Oh Jesus I hit a police officer’s son. I’m going to jail. I’m going to prison. Oh, please don’t die.´

 

`He’s not hurt.´ the voice underneath Stiles says while the two are shifting to sit up this has Amanda screaming, `Don’t move him! ´ Then as if realizing Stiles wasn’t the only who might be hurt she screams, `You shouldn’t be moving either! ´

 

`He’s just upset. And I’m perfectly fine. So, please stop yelling. ´ the male voice says while a hand comes to rest over Stiles’ heart and the other over his forehead, the touch grounds Stiles enough to ease the flow of tears into mere trickles.

 

`Are you sure? ´ Amanda asks looking around, `Maybe we should call an ambulance.´

 

`No.´ Stiles croaks, the hold on him tightens ever so slightly, `No, ambulance. I’m fine. I’m fine.´ Amanda looks immediately a little less panicked by the prospect of _not_ having to call an ambulance. But she looks nervous and unsure of what to do.

 

`I’m fine.´ Stiles says as he tries to get back up on his feet, the person beneath him seems unwilling to let him go but with Amanda reaching out to help Stiles the hands that had held him freed him. `I just want to go home.´

 

`I’ll drive you.´ Amanda says at once.

 

`Thank you.´ Stiles says, and at once there was an arm around his waist pulling him up next to the stranger that had sat and talked to Hale,

 

`I’lltake care of him.´ the young man holding him says rather sharply, causing Amanda to flinch ever so slightly and taking a step away from Stiles and the young man holding him.

 

`No.´ Stiles says quickly looking between Amanda and this strange person he did not know.

 

 `No. No you’re not.´ Stiles says while pushing against the body that tried to trap him, `I’m not going with you. I don’t even know you.´

 

`Should I – should I call the police?´ Amanda askslooking at Stiles and then at the youngerman who wasn’tpart of the Beacon Hills High School staff or the mass of students that were apart of the system, Amanda knew everyone at Beacon Hills High School if not by name then at least by face and statues.

 

Stiles could have sworn that the strange person holding him rather possessively was emanating a low growl, but as soon as Stiles gave Amanda a short nod the arm holding him slipped off of him and Stiles was free to do as he pleased.  And what pleased Stiles was to get as far away from the one who made his body react differently from what Stiles would have preferred, the young man called out to Stiles as he was about to get into the impressive car, `I’ll see you around, Stiles.´ there was a promise in those words that made Stiles heart skip a beat.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay before anyone gets a fit, or starts to gather up all the angry fans to come and chase me (please put your torches and pitchforks down people) let me explain my use of “Perfect combination is rare in this world” moment, and I must admit my little Dove was a bit surprised I changed the way it had played out in this fic BUT she NEVER told me how to use it as her words were and I have the note still “Please use the sentence Perfect combination is rare in this world” there was nothing about how I used it. I just wanted to play a little with it. FINE HATE ME! I DON’T CARE, she liked it so there.


	9. A Knock on the Door

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> `Are you stalking me?´ Stiles can’t help but ask, keeping his distance from the creeper standing before him, and the creeper smirks at him and tilts his head before answering, `No. But I’d love too.´

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I admit this was a bit of a leap from me, but I had a timeline and it was getting very tight and so I had to fast forwards a little bit so this might all be a bit clumsy. But do try and like it. Oh and sorry about the length of this chapter, my Dove complained that it was a bit long but I just couldn’t make it shorter not even now as I’m posting it to you lovelies. A fun little part of me can be found in the dinner scene, another bad habit I have if I’m without a pen.

 

Stiles was spending another Saturday doing homework lounging in clothes even he wouldn’t dare to go out in public with. In the past Stiles would have spent a few hours going through Paige’s homework which would have kept him occupied for at least an hour or so, but not anymore as that ship had sailed the moment he had caught her fraternizing with his nemesis. Once his homework was done Stiles decided to catch-up on all the movies he had wished to see, but had either not had the time or the want to do so, by now there was more of a mountain of them than an actual stack. Stiles made himself comfortable on his matrass planning to stay there with his laptop until dinner when he couldn’t escape his remaining family. But before he had the chance to even chose which movie to start with there was the familiar and unwanted knock on the door, and then the bedroom door opens before Stiles gives his consent for the person to enter.

 

`Dad? ´ Stiles looks up at his father.

 

It’s not like his father hasn’t been at the door before or opening it without Stiles say so; it was as his father often said, the right of a parent to enter their room of their child without consent, although this was not something he did with Paige. No, what has Stiles questioning his father’s presence there is the rather curious expression his father is sporting on his face that spurs the question why _he_ is standing there by the doorway; his father looks like he’s once more proud and pleased with Stiles, but there is also this slight sharpness in his eyes that tells Stiles the cop-mode is also pushing its way through the depths of his father’s psyche.  

 

`Why is there’s a young man here to see you ?´ the question makes no sense at all to Stiles who gapes at his father because his father had asked such a ridiculous question; there was not a single soul who would want to see him, Stiles Stilinski was friendless and his father should have known this by now.

 

`I-Idon’t know.´ Stiles answers truthfully.

 

`Really?´ his dads asks leaning against the doorframe and crossing his arms over his chest, but there’s no look of annoyance there just the clear state of curiosity and wonder, `So you weren’t expecting anyone.´

 

`NO.´ Stiles says with an air of alarm, but the whole situation is alarming considering how Stiles wasn’t even friendly with anyone in Beacon Hills. His father simply raises one of his eyebrows at Stiles little outburst.

 

`Are you sure that whoever it is, _is_ at the _right_ house? ´ Stiles asks while trying to figure out what the hell is going on.

 

There is the tiniest of smirks on his father’s lips, and with a voice that mirrors his expression the father of two says, `Unless there is another Stiles Stilinski living in this neighborhood, well then yes that could be a possible.´ Stiles mouth drops open at the mention of his name, it makes his father grin a little wider, `Should I ask him to come upstairs, or will you come downstairs? ´

 

`What? ´

 

`Upstairs,´ his father says with that tone of voice that had always made Stiles think his father believed him to be a bit slow, `or downstairs, kiddo? ´ Stiles watches as his father straightens up and uncrosses his arms while still smiling.

 

`Downstairs.´ Stiles says getting up from where he was sitting, trying his damnedest not to fall on his ass while doing so. Stiles’ father gives him a pleased little nod at the answer Stiles had given.

 

It’s rather obvious that his father was glad over Stiles’ choice of not entertaining guests up in his rather bleak room; the deputy had tried more than once to convince his son to make the room his, he had offered to buy Stiles anything he would have wanted from IKEA or any other shop they’d moved through, but Stiles had refused while Paige on the other hand was far more eager to make her new home livable.

 

Following his father down the narrow hall Stiles tried to figure out who would want to see him on a Saturday, trying to figure out what this person would want with him, the not knowing part is almost enough to cause him to have one more panic attack to entertain a week of surviving two panic attacks. The anxiousness is enough to have him worrying his lower lip while descending the stairs.

 

Stiles hears his sister ask the intruder if he’d like a soda or something else to drink, from the way her voice chimes he knows she is smiling happily at this strange person who had come to call on _him_. The smooth voice that answers Paige is familiar to him although Stiles isn’t sure why that it, the young teenager could hear the dancing of a smirk behind each word the male said; this strange person walked the fine line between openly flirting and not.

 

It doesn’t take too long before Stiles mind connects the fine dots that grants Stiles with a face to the voice, there in the house he shared with his sister and father was a person Stiles had come across only once; and still that had been enough to imprint the stranger with good taste in sweets into his young and easily rattled mind. Hearing the voice of the person who had saved Stiles from getting hit by a car just a few days ago, had Stiles stumbling down the last few steps and if his father hadn’t been there to steady him then Stiles would had a nasty little fall.

 

His father doesn’t say anything, only smiles at his son all-knowingly which confuses Stiles almost as much as the presence of the stranger at the house.

 

Stiles makes his way rather cautiously into den and feels at once like he should have changed into something less like “Hey I’ve got no life outside of school so I hang around the house in a pair of old sweatpants that have as many holes as a some cheeses have, and a very old faded hoodie”. The stranger that had been all buddy-buddy with Derek Hale was dressed up like he was heading out on a lovely little date, which left Stiles feeling even more like the pathetic loser that he knew he was. Stiles wished his father had told him to change into at least a pair of jeans.  

 

`Ah, Stiles.´ the person who was far too dressed up to be anywhere near to knowing Stiles says as soon as he steps into the room, beaming like he was actually happy to see Stiles which made no sense at all.

 

 _Oh, there is something very wrong with this person,_ Stiles thinks as he looks over the person standing in the den wearing a wide smile that was just on the edge of being charming and disturbing because no one smiled like that when it came to Stiles.

 

`I’ll go and help Paige with the drinks, you two make yourselves comfortable.´ Stiles hears his dad say, he feels his father squeeze his shoulder gently before vanishing from his side, leaving a stunned and slightly horrified Stiles Stilinski standing alone with someone who could so easily have been a psychotic serial killer.  

 

Once his sister and father are out of earshot Stiles hissed out, `What are you doing here? ´

 

The stranger crosses the distance between them which hadn’t been much of a distance to begin with as the young man had been standing in the middle of the room, and the room was so very small it was the same size as Stiles’ mother’s office back home.

 

The creeper doesn’t even bother answering Stiles question, which has Stiles on edge, but as soon as the older male was right there crowding Stiles’ personal space all the anger that had been right there on the surface vanish and is replaced by nervousness and slight discomfort. The silence betweenthe two was soon too much for Stiles to carry on with and so he just has to ask, `Are you stalking me? ´

 

The older male is so close that if either one were to make a move forwards their noses found touch, Stiles swallows nervously as he stares into the blue eyes that held an intensity that forced Stiles to avert his gaze.

 

`No.´ the man says with a low salutary voice. And before speaking again he tilted his head and a wicked little smile rose on his lips, and with a voice that was more like a purr the stranger confesses, `But I’d love too.´

 

`Okay, McCreepy, ´ Stiles says as the stranger closes the inches between them. Stiles pushes against the firm body with a trembling hand, and all he can thing about for a few minutes is how firm the chest was, but as impure thoughts start to rise Stiles moves away from the person who has no idea about personal space.

 

 `Ever heard of personal space.´ Stiles asks while he walks away from the odd-ball that really needs a good shrink. Then again Stiles had his suspicions the man could out-shrink a shrink just like he had.

 

`Yes, I’ve heard of it.´ the unwanted guest, at least unwanted by Stiles, said with a cheerful grin, `I’ve never been a fan of it.´

 

`Why are you even here?´ Stiles asked as he created some distance between him and this strange person who appeared to have a difficulty keeping his eyes off of him, the hunger in the icy-blue orbs was enough to make Stiles shiver.  

 

`I missed you.´ the older male said while approaching Stiles with an air of confidence that Stiles lacked and wished he had.

 

 `You’re kidding me right? ´ Stiles asks which causes the other male in the room to shake his head.

 

Making sure he keeps some distance between himand this strange person that was disrupting his Saturday routine, Stiles keeps moving restlessly about the room and fighting the urge to call for his dad to come around and save him, preferably armed with a gun. No matter how he moved about the room, _his “guest”_ was right there beside him or behind him or in front of him smiling seductively and dangerously.

 

`I thought we could go out, Stiles.´ says the obviously disturbed man, his voice all smooth and behind each word there was such confidence that Stiles almost believed him.

 

The strange man looked like he had no intentions of allowing Stiles to turn him down, which made Stiles feel more like some helpless fluffy little animal than what he cared to. and the more the strange kept coming towards him the more trapped Stiles began to feel and in the end he lost his ability to navigate around the room to avoid actually getting trapped by the this person that appeared more like a wolf than actually human; and rather suddenly Stiles found himself trapped between this predator and one of the few bookshelves his family had taken with them to Beacon Hills.

 

Stiles swallowed nervously.

 

But then as suddenly as he had trapped Stiles the man pulled away, and then spoke with the most unfamiliar voice that made him sound so very innocent and respectful that it left Stiles gaping at him, `I find you rather fascinating, and I do believe we could become great friends.´

 

`Friends? ´ Stiles gasps out, confused by the sudden change in the older males demeanor.

 

Stiles could never have imagined a friendship between this person and him, a person who was obviously close to Derek Hale. There had never been a thought that would have even crossed near the suggestion of such a relationship between them. It confused Stiles to hear this person who had been chasing him around the room to suggest just that, a friendship?

 

However, soon enough Stiles came to realize why such a strange change and claim had been made, this realization came in the form of his father and sister walking into the room; it was obvious that the man was playing Stiles’ sister and father for fools.  

 

**~*~**

 

Moving away from his prey, who had the heart of a rabbit and the eyes of a deer, was a hard thing to do although he knew it had to be done. Peter took in the scent of the boy before pulling back. The scent was a confusing mixture of emotions and chemicals that were almost enough to drown out the boys pure and true scent; and that scent, which lay hide underneath everything else was delicious and inviting, he couldn’t even imagine how perfect that scent would become if it was combined with his own.

 

Peter knew he had to keep himself inline around the Deputy who entered the room with his daughter carrying a bottle of beer and a can of soda, the girl who had stolen his nephews heart carried two cans of soda of which one she kept for herself while handing the other to her stunned brother; both the girl and the father looked like Christmas had come early that year.

 

Peter straightened out his thoughts before he lost all control. The father, no father for that matter, would ever allow his son near Peter if he even got hint of Peter’s true plans or desires.

 

The Deputy handed Peter a can of soda, while asking how Peter and Stiles had crossed paths, Peter had been well prepared for the question.  Peter took the can with a smile and thanked the man before glancing over at the boy who was simply beautiful in his discomfort, Peter had learned a few things about the boy from what Derek had told him offhandedly; Peter knew the boy was just a child, and still it did not mean much to Peter or the desires he held for the boy.

 

 Peter would have liked to continue watching the boy, but he knew not too as it might alarm the father, so he turned his gaze away and answered the question, `I came across your son at Beacon Hills High School while visiting my nephew.´

 

`Nephew? ´ Paige asks before his boy gets a chance to do so.

 

Peter nods before taking a sip of the soda, he’d rather not drop Derek’s name into the mix before Stiles could ignore it and that time was not now. He decides to try and maneuver past Paige’s question.

 

`Your son and I just ended up talking,´ Peter says with a smooth voice even when he keeps all his true desires and wants hidden away, he talks with care watching the father trying to fish out each sense of concern that could arise from the Deputy, trying to figure out when the man would get a sense of danger from Peter, `I must admit that I had never fully though about the inner-workings of Batman’s psyche, not until your son opened those gates for me.´ Peter sent another soft smile at the younger male who looked like he was waiting for his father to catch-up with Peter’s game, it pleased him to see how the boy saw through Peter’s façade.

 

`I can believe that.´ the father laughs, taking a seat in the recliner that smelled of no one but the Deputy, then taking a sip of his beer while gesturing for Peter to take a seat which the werewolf did.

 

`There is something rather beautiful in the way Stiles thinks, Sir. It is rather refreshing.´ Peter says as he sits down on the old couch. The Deputy makes a pleased sound if it is from the beer or the words of praise Peter has bestowed on his son Peter does not know. Peter sees Paige nod in an agreement before taking a seat on the armrest of the couch, smiling at her brother who was blushing from the attention which only made Stiles appear so much more desirable at least in Peter’s opinion.

 

`Stiles has always been very bright.´ Paige says with a tender smile, looking up at her brother who had yet to take a seat, Peter can’t help but notice the cold glare the boy gave his sister who turns her gaze away, he can’t ignore the powerful scent of regret and sadness that flows out of the girl. Peter knows from the scent coming off of Stiles that the teenager doesn’t hate his sister although some might mistake him to do so, no it is evident from his scent that the boy doesn’t trust his sister and grieves over the relationship the two had lost; Peter feels some sense of sadness at the misery the boy feels, which is rather strange considering Stiles wasn’t even pack and was just a human boy.

 

Peter speaks for fifteen minutes keeping his conversation skills at its best as he makes the father trust him more and more, Peter waits until he is sure he has the Deputies trust before bringing up his desire to take Stiles out for a few hours.

 

`I was wondering if I could take your son out for some delicious fast food,´ Peter says once he sees that he has put the father at ease with the prospect of a friendship developing between Peter and Stiles.

 

Peter turns to glance over at Stiles who had suddenly stopped breathing, and Peter speaks now to the boy and not the father, `I had hoped we could continue our conversation.´

 

`You’re asking me if you can take my son out to dinner, Peter? ´ Deputy Stilinski asks after finishing his beer.

 

Peter simply nods.

 

`I thought,´ Peter pretends uncertainty, `I should introduce myself to you and ask for your permission, considering how young your son is and the age difference between us,´ Peter can almost feel the sense how much the older male approves of Peter’s decision.

 

`I have no romantic interests in your son,´ the little lie almost had Peter smirking, `I merely wish that the two of us could become friends, considering how lonely he is,´ the mention of Stiles’ loneliness was all needed to push the Deputy to agree to Peter’s request and Peter knew it, `I have very few friends that are able to compete with my own wit.´ Peter smirks up at the Sheriff who is no longer looking at him but at his son, there is a look of hurt there and longing which Peter can’t grasp or understand.

 

`Really? ´ the father asks, voice soft and broken, `He speaks to you? Laughs with you? ´

 

Peter looks over at the boy who lowers his gaze, `Talks. Yes.´ but not the way the deputy would wish, `Laughs. Not yet.´

 

Alec Stilinski turns his gaze over to his daughter, who nods before he finally looks over at Peter and the werewolf knows he has won. Peter feels no shame over manipulating the father to do as Peter wishes.

 

The older Stilinski clears his throat before giving Peter the blessing he wished for, `I think Paige and I can have dinner without Stiles for one night.´ There is a weak smiles on the man’s lips, and he looks over at his son who looks ready to protest, `You need to make friends, son. You need to talk.´

 

`You should go and get changed.´ Paige says with a smile before starting to push the boy out of the room and upstairs.

 

**~*~**

 

`Do you like him? He _is_ good looking. I mean _really_ good looking.´ Paige started babbling while going through the chaos that was Stiles wardrobe, `He is older, like older. But do _you_ like him?´ She was looking at each piece of clothing she picked with a scrunched up look of disgust.

 

`No.´ Stiles says sharply, which by the look on Paige’s face tells Stiles she isn’t at all convinced by his answer. The problem is, Stiles doesn’t like this Peter person like he liked Scott, but he did appreciate him the same way he appreciated Derek’s good-looks and that was one of the reasons Stiles had his thighs covered with scars.

 

`Oh come on little brother.´ Paige said with an air of frustration while rejecting another pair of jeans that were far too large for her baby-brother, `I know you like him.´

 

`I don’t! ´

 

`Yes. Yes you do.´ Paige said sounding so sure of herself while handing Stiles a pair of skinny jeans that would probably be too big to really pass of as skinny jeans now. Paige had bought them for Stiles a month or so ago, back then they had sat perfectly against his long limbs and tight little ass that had made a few of her friends eye him like he was a piece of meat.  

 

`I don’t.´ Stiles snapped at his sister, this was the most he had spoken to her since yesterday, his demand had Paige rolling her eyes before she was turning her back to her brother who was pacing behind her like a trapped animal. With his anger growing, spurred on by Paige’s reaction of ignoring his second, `I don’t.´  had Stiles suddenly feeling really on edge and soon he snapped at her back, `I’m not some fucking _fag_ , Paige, I’m not.´

 

~*~

 

The words her baby-brother spits out are like a punch in stomach, and Paige turns around to face at her furious brother and for a moment she thinks that this person passing around the room that holds no character or charm isn’t her brother; that this angry figure who is still too thin, could not possibly be her brother who had once been one of laughter and smiles.

 

Paige doesn’t know this person.

 

Genim had never sounded so hateful, so disgusted, not even when he had caught her making out with Derek Hale; it was a shock to hear it or to see such anger in eyes that had never beenso dark and hollow all at once.

 

`There is _nothing_ wrong with being gay, Stiles. _Nothing_.´ Paige closes the distance between her and her brother and frames his face with her trembling hands, `There is nothing wrong with you. **_Nothing_.´ **

 

`I’m not gay. I’m not.´ Stiles insists, growing visibly more and more upset, `I’m not. ´

 

Paige wanted to argue with her brother, to force him to accept and love who and what she knew him to be; but Paige knew she was already walking on thin ice, and that thin layer of ice might just break and drop her into the deep from where there would be no rising from.  Paige could only hug Stiles as tightly as possible, to make him feel at least a little of the amount of love she felt towards him; it was all she could do now.

 

They stood there for a moment in a silent embrace until Stiles cleared his throat and pointed out that he wasn’t wearing any pants. Paige let out a small laugh before giving her brother another squeeze and walking away, going back to searching for a clean shirt; she found a simple black shirt that smelled clean and was without stains. Paige threw the shirt at her brother who had finished buckling his belt. While Stiles continued getting changed Paige gathered up all the discarded clothes, it wasn’t laundry day or her turn but she needed to make sure Stiles had clean clothes to wear to school; people really didn’t need any more reasons to torment her baby brother.

 

`Why am I doing this?´ Stiles asked, voice low and full of doubt andwonder, his slender fingers running through his short-short hair that was so short that there was nothing one could do with it.

 

Paige shrugged her shoulders, because there was no real good answer. She watched as Stiles hung his head and walked out of the dismal room with his sister. Paige hoped Peter, that was the name her father had called the man, wouldn’t take advantage of her baby-brother and that he’d be more like a big-brother to him; she had wished Derek could have been that person, or at least a person who could reach Stiles and help adjust to their new life at Beacon Hills, but that was not in the cards.

 

**~*~**

 

Peter had been listening in on the conversation between brother and sister, his own sister wouldn’t approve of it but what Talia didn’t know wouldn’t hurt _him._ To hear the angerand shame in the young voice made something inside of Peter hurt, it pained him to hear how the boy was trying to lie and deny what he truly was. Peter knew that the way Stiles saw things, the way he felt about his sexuality would make things much more difficult for Peter. He had never imagined getting the boy would be an easy task, not with him andDerek being related; but with his newest bagged truly made Peter wonder, if only for a second, if he should abort his chase for Stiles Stilinski.  

 

`Hopefully spending some time out of the house will do him good.´ Mr. Stilinski’s words held a weight to them that worried Peter, it was all enough to break Peter from his thoughts; thoughts he now regretted having, because he could not just give the boy up. 

 

There were expectations there behind those words that Peter was not prepared for and he wondered if he was indeed playing a dangerous game. The boy of his desires was obviously fragile in more ways than one, and so was his small family.

 

But Peter wanted Stiles. Peter wanted Stiles more than he had ever wanted anyone, _ever_ , in his entire life. Every part of Peter wanted the boy, and nothing could deter him from having what he wanted.

 

The sound of Stiles and Paige coming back downstairs has the father hiding his second bottle of beer underneath the ugly looking furniture as he asked Peter not to tell either one of his children about the extra beer, the young werewolf gave a short agreeing nod before standing up to face the two teenagers walking into the room; it was a risky move, Peter knew this but it seemed like a good move in the end as the man smiled happily at Peter, almost like they were old friends sharing a secret.

 

When his eyes fell on the boy Peter could hardly breathe, although Peter had hoped that the baggy clothes the pretty little boy had worn hid something beautiful, Peter had never imagined the lithe shape of the body that now appeared before him and never had he imagined such shy beauty that shimmered out from the child. It was a strange thing to see Stiles like this all coy and nervous, it made Peter want the boy even more which was something he had never imagined possible.

 

It was simply adorable how the boy blushed the moment Peter focused his gaze on the figure before him, eyes roaming from the head to toe and up again; he wished he could see the body free from those still too large set of clothes, to see the pale skin dotted with dark moles and to see how far the gentle blush could spread, to see how far Peter could push the boy to blush.

 

Peter had to scold his thoughts before his lust was driven out into the surface, before he revealed to the naïve father how his desires for the boy were everything but pure.  Peter shakes off his desires and impure thoughts, and with a voice full of playfulness he exclaimed, `You cleaned up nice.´

 

Stiles blushed a shade brighter, the peculiar shade of red spreading down the long slender throat and up to the tips of the ears. The boy was simply adorable.

 

`Well, you two should get going.´ Deputy Stilinski said, `My son needs to be back before half-past ten.´

 

The girl hurried to grab one of the coats by the front door and slipped it on the boy.

 

Stiles looked very nervous and stuttered something about homework, which was a lie even if Peter wasn’t sure what the boy had said but the frantic heart of the boy betrayed him for now Peter could appreciate the frail attempts at telling fibs, but once he was Peter’s there would be no such thing between them; Peter would not withstand it, Stiles would not be allowed to be anything but truthful towards him.

 

Ushered over to the door and then out by the two remaining members of Stiles’ family Peter pulled out the keys to his car which he hoped had been a bit more flashier; his family had bought Peter the simple Ford, he of course wished to one day replace it with a less boring form of transportation.

 

Like the gentlemen he wished to pretend to be, Peter opened the passenger-side door for his little date. Stiles paused by the door, fidgeting for a moment with the sleeve of his shirt, slipping into the car Stiles held his head low and mumbled a miserable thank you like a good little boy should.

 

After closing the car door and walking around it Peter let out a loud groan, the simple thank you had been enough to make his dick stir in interests. The boy with honey colored eyes and sinful mouth had alone been enough to make Peter wish to bend the boy over the hood of his car and just take what he wanted, but to hear his voice so full of surrender made the boy even more tempting. But for now Peter was willing to ignore his own wants and desires, Peter maybe be many things but a rapist was not one of them; he wanted the boy to want him, wanted the boy to beg for his cock.

 

**~*~**

 

Stiles hadn’t really expected Peter to take him out to dinner, even if it was something as simple as a burger and frieze. Stiles couldn’t stop fidgeting or blush from the attention Peter was giving him, or from the looks the waitress gave him and Peter, it was all so new and strange to him. Peter ordered for the both of them, and Stiles was fine with as therewere some doubt he would be able to finishfrieze and a burger.

 

`Tell me about yourself Stiles.´ Peter said as the waitress left the two of them alone. Peter looked far too predatory to convince Stiles to bare his heart and soul to the male, there was however a small part of him that was curious about Peter; for example was Peter his real name and why had his dad been so convinced Peter wasn’t an axe-murderer.

 

Still, Stiles couldn’t bring himself to speak, not yet. Stiles remained silent, which appeared to inspire Peter to prod a bit more.

 

`So Stiles tell me, ´ Peter said with his smooth almost seductive voice, `how much of this little town of ours have you seen? ´

 

`It’s not my town.´ Stiles says while starting to rip the paper napkin into little strips which he then slowly tied together, with the help of toothpicks Stiles created a little bridge, Stiles was perfectly aware that Peter watched him with a mixture of bemusement and fascination. Paige would have stopped Stiles the moment he had started to shred the napkin, his father would have ignored it while Stiles mother would have joined in to help him; his mother had always understood that Stiles needed an outlet for all the nervous energy in his body.

 

`You live here, am I right? ´ Peter asked with a slightly bemused tone of voice while handing a set of toothpicks to Stiles. Stiles nods and takes the offering, and with a slightly dull voice he replies, `For now.´

 

The waitress arrived with their dinner, smiling broadly. Although she had been very discreet Stiles did however notice the way she slipped her number to Peter, who gave her a little wink but as soon as she was out of sight he shredded the napkin the number and the name that had been written on it.

 

`I’m sure you’re going to love the curly-fries, here,´ Peter says as hepicks one up from the little basket and offers it to Stiles like he was a pet of sorts.

 

Stiles weighed his options, he could ignore the fry with a glare or do what he chose to do and that was to snatch the fry with his fingers rather than with his mouth. Stiles popped the fry into his mouth and although he tried to fight it a pleased little moan escaped him which had Peter smirking at him victoriously. Realizing what had escaped from him Stiles felt nothing less than mortified by his lack of control.

 

After a moment Peter finally broke the silence that had been born from Stiles little moment of weakness, `I take it you don’t like Beacon Hills much, although I think it unfair considering you haven’t given my home town the chance it deserves.´

 

Stiles doesn’t respond to Peter’slittle attempt to lure him into this casual form of conversation, so instead he focuses his attention on the fries that just _are_ better than their straight cousins. There is a small part of Stiles that tells him not to eat, but he has a feeling that if he didn’t at least eat the fries then Peter would bring-up Stiles’ so called problem.

 

Peter kept however probing and questioning Stiles about things; asking questions about what Stiles liked and didn’t like, and Stiles would answer these questions by the ways of small shrugs or nods and the occasional shake of the head; only a few times would he answer with words, and Stiles could tellthat the shortness of his answers appeared to bemuse Peter who continued to try and push and pull Stiles into some form of proper conversation.

 

No matter how cold and distant Stiles was Peter continued to smile and laugh, which made Stiles doubt the other males mental health while becoming more and more annoyed with Peter.

 

When Peter had finished his own serving of burger and fries, Stiles had barely finished his fries. Noticing Peter eyeing what Stiles had not managed to eat, made Stiles feel less nervous and more annoyed than anything; he simply had enough about Peter and his pretending to give a fuck about Stiles.

 

`Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing,´ Stiles says glaring at Peter, the smile Peter was wearing flickered and dropping slightly and what comes out of Peter’s mouth is a simple, `Oh?´

 

`You’re pretending to be my friend, to get my defenses down,´ Stiles says pushing what was left of his dinner to the edge of the table, the smell of fries and the now stale hamburger were making him nauseous, `You can forget about it, because _it_ will _never_ happen.´

 

A frown appeared on the handsome face, Stiles wasn’t gay just because he could admire the fine structure of aface.

 

With a rather defensive tone of voice Peter spoke with as muchsincerity as Stiles could imagine the other to be able to muster, `I’m not pretending anything Stiles. I enjoy your company and while I admit that I want something more than friendship, I will accept a relationship of only that if you so wish.´ Then Peter’s hand reached out and snatched Stiles, he held it tightly but still with surprising gentleness that silenced the protest that wanted to rise from the teenager. It was all so very confusing.

 

**~*~**

 

Their date had ended far too soon for Peter’s liking, and it ended without even the smallest of kisses, but Peter wouldn’t say it had been a complete failure as the small reactions that the teenager had shown told Peter all was not lost. As the boy walked back inside his house Peter immediately sent the boy a little message before driving home, wishing the boy sweet dreams, he heard the boy snap out from inside the house a loud, `SON OF A BITCH!´

 

Stiles hadn’t given Peter his number, but Peter had sure as hell taken the chance to steal away the phone that was at least a few years old and a bit scratched up, Peter did what was needed to gain the every possible access to _his Stiles_.

 

The drive home went with ease and while he sat in the silence of his car, Peter contemplated his options and formulated a plan needed to secure the affections of the boy.

 

Peter was far too young to waste too much time chasing after someone who wouldn’t give him a real chance; be it a hot-piece-of-jailbait-ass.

 

Peter parked his car next to the mini-van. He took a moment to enjoy theprivacy and silence his car provided him. He pulled out his phone, there were several messages there waiting for his attention; a few from ladies he had entertained himself with before Stiles had caught his interest, he deleted each of these unwanted message and then he sees it.

 

There are two messages from Stiles.

 

Peter’s heart does a strange little thing at the news, it flutters like the wings of a butterfly, it’s a strange sensation and Peter wants to rip the wings off of said butterfly that has settled inside of him. As he reads the first message he can’t help but chuckle at the outraged that must have passed across the young face of Stiles Stilinski when he had answered Peter’s message.

 

 **_How the_ ** _**fuck did you get my number!?**_

 

Peter couldn’t help the light chuckle that erupted from within him at the second message the boy had sent him.

 

**_You are seriously the creepiest creeping-creeper who creeps!_ **

 

Peter thinks for a moment if he should answer or leave the boy to stew for a minute or a day or two, he decides to leave Stiles alone for now. He gets out of his car, not bother to lock and simply walks up to the house from where the sounds of talking and laughter came, there was also the equally familiar sound of his niece Laura and his nephew Derek arguing about one of the very familiar issue the two had; it was the rights to the family computer. 

 

Until either one of the two could afford to buy their own computer Derek and Laura just had to share the family computer with the other members of the family who did not possess their own computer.

 

Peter has barely walk in through the door when Laura is right up in his face demanding him toallow her to use his computer, and soon she is joined by Derek who is quick to point out how he is much closer to Peter than what Laura is evenif Peter and Laura are but a few years apart; the truth is Peter is closer to Derek than Laura because of two simple things, the first one is the fact that Laura was a girl and now a young woman, and the other reason was the fact that the two were equally matched when it came to the chance of becoming the next Alpha and Peter wanted to become the Alpha so much so that he hated Laura for the risk she was to the future Peter saw for himself.

 

Peter would have rather told Laura and Derek to leave him and his compute alone, but the moment he opened his mouth to speak a new thought sprung forth and he placed his hand on the back of Derek’s neck and pulled the teenager close.

 

`Der, I have a deal for you.´ Peter couldn’t help the cunning little smile that tugged at his mouth, he could feel Derek tense under his touch although they were close there was always a danger with each of Peter’s little arrangements. But like alwaysDerek gave a short nod. Laura gave Peter and Derek her angriest of glares before running off tocomplain to her mother who just happened to be their Alpha.

 

Talia was laughing merrily in the kitchen with her mate. Since Thomas had joined their pack and married Talia, Peter’s sister had grown more relaxed in nature; it was said it was because of the bond between mates, Peter’s own opinion was simply that it was the effects of finally getting laid that had Talia far happier moods than before Thomas.   

 

Unlike Derek, Peter kept his room tidy and in order. The seize of his family and the amount of several very nosy individuals had Peter keeping his room free of anything that might bring him discomfort in front of his family when found.

 

Peter allowed his nephew to enter his bedroom first, it wasn’t too common for Derek to enter what should be Peter’s safe-harbor, and the lack of visits left the younger male feeling uncomfortable and unsure what to do in the airy space of light colors and soft fabrics.The discomfort was a sign that Derek had truly kept out of Peter’s room during his absence.

 

`Take a seat.´ Peter said while gesturing towards the direction of the bed while he made his way over to his desk, removing his leather jacket placing the jacket against the back of the chair before taking a seat on the edge of his desk.

 

`I’ll give you access to my computer, for an hour each week.´ Peterstated while crossing his ankles, eyes on his nephew who looked up at Peter with a pleased smile which faltered the moment Peter said, `If _you_ try and befriend Stiles.´

 

`What?´

 

Peter couldn’t help but smile slightly at the stupid look on his nephews face, but held his face from showing anything but pensiveness as he continued to speak, `And when I am sure you have managed what I require from you, well, then you may use my computer at any time and for any length of time – unless, of course, I need it.´

 

`You’re joking, right? ´ Derek asked, there was a tremble of a disbelieving laughter behind those words.

 

Peter shook his head and stood up and walked over to his nephew.

 

`Imagine the benefits of such a relationship with young Stilinski. Surely once he sees you as a friend, he can hardly ostracize his sister, and surely he might even accept a growing relationship between you and her.´It was clear Derek wasn’t all too convinced by Peter’s faith in Stiles ability to forgive and forget, and to be honest Peter really didn’t have much faith in Stiles giving Derek a chance to make friends. But Peter needed to hasten his claim on the boy if only for one night or two; it wouldn’t take too long before Stiles would see the truth of Peter, and there was always that minuscule but still possible threat that someone besides Peter would see the delicious treat that was Stiles Stilinski.

 

Peter could not and would not allow someone else to steal the innocence of Deputy Stilinski’s son.

 

`And imagine the joy dear Paige would feel when she would find you and her brother growing close, to see you defending him when he is in peril.´Peter placed his hand on his nephews shoulder and squeezed it lightly before continuing, `Stiles is the way back to her heart, dear nephew.´

 

`You want me to use him?´ Derek asks, and Peter is slightly surprised by the look of disgust that weighs heavily on his nephews fine features, but he ignores it and shrugs his shoulders slightly as he answers with a simple, `Yes.´

 

Derek pulls away from Peter’s touch and is up and heading towards the door, and without even giving his uncle a simplest of glances says, `I’m not going to use him.´

 

`Yes. Yes you are if you want Paige back, and if you want to gain access to all those lovely little sites that you can’t access on the home computer.´ Derek pauses at the door and glares at Peter over his shoulder before vanishing through the door.

 

Peter laughs asthe door is slammed behind his enraged nephew, Derek might not know it yet but he had just agreed to Peter’s terms.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I made Laura and Peter about the same age (I probably had a reason for it, a good one, but I’ve forgotten about it), and the two are well aware that they are both capable of becoming the future Alpha of the Hale-pack although one of them wants it more than the other one does; and one of them is preferred by the members of the pack than the other.


	10. Bleeding Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Regret and guilt may never truly leave a soul, it may fester and grow, but it will never truly depart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO, people a few crumbs of information regarding stuff in this chapter. First of all I should simply apologies to you all for the lack of spirit in this chapter; all I can say is that I had clearly lost it. The second thing you should all know is that I decided (by my own rights and determination) to make the Hale’s a family of nothing but werewolves, they have as of yet found their mates in humans, although most of them see nothing wrong with having a human mate; although Peter does look down on humans as the lesser beings it served somewhat with the idea I was building around Peter, helping me keep track of his mindset. Third; I grew bored with this story so I speeded the storyline and took the easy way around in order to get it ready for my friend’s birthday, and now I feel like such a shit for making everything so easy – I’m such a whore when it comes to time.

 

Monday arrived as it was destined to, and Stiles found his body being abused yet again as he walked through the doors of Beacon Hills High School. The moment he was separated from his sister his body collided with the nearest set of lockers, a good morning greeting from a senior that was a member of the Hate-Stiles-Stilinski club; Stiles was pretty sure there was an actual club dedicated to those who hated him, he imagined that the meetings were held every week at either one of the members houses or at a fast-food restaurant, and to become a member of this exclusive club you had to at least once a week abuse Stiles in some way.

 

Stiles sighed and gathered up his things that had fallen to the floor during his “good-morning locker. How was the weekend” moment. Stiles tried to make himself as invisible as possible in the crowded hall, he couldn’t help but wish that if he really hoped hard enough it would be enough to finally make _him_ drop dead so suddenly and without warning that it would take a moment for anyone to actually realize what had happened; wouldn’t that just put a spin on things, it would shock the shit of people having to see a kid walking down the hall just fall to the ground dead, The fantasy brought a small smile on Stiles lips as he stood up and continued on walking towards his own locker, he imagined how quiet the hall would be with his sudden demise, and as the knowledge of the sudden death erupted in the petty little minds of the other students someone would actually react with some dramatic-flare – most likely it would be Amanda,

 

His happy little fantasy that had reached the point where he would finally be reunited with his mother and she would be disappointed of course by how soon he had joined her but also glad to have her son with her, he would also finally come to learn more about the rest of his family, like his father’s, he imagined talking with his mother and all his relatives when he was suddenly grabbed by the neck and slammed face first into one of the many walls although this one held a large poster promoting abstinence as a form of protection against teen pregnancies and sexually transmitted diseases.

 

Stiles isn’t too surprised when he is pulled off of the wall and turned around to face three guys he knew were on the swim team, before Stiles could even remember their names he was shoved rather harshly back against the wall and both his arms pinned above his head by two of the three boys.

 

Pinned to the wall like a butterfly on display the names of the three assailants come to Stiles as easily as speaking does; the two trolls keeping him from curling in on himself are Adam French and Jim Klein, while the third one was Ruben Quinn. Stiles has had a few altercations with various members of the swim team, most of which has been similar to this one where a few members jump him. Stiles had been rendered into tears a few times, while also been thrown in the pool twice; after the first-time Stiles started having a change of clothes in his locker.

 

Stiles isn’t stupid, he learns things all the time.  

 

This time Stiles learns that Ruben Quinn is a possessive and paranoid by nature, he accuses Stiles of eyeing _his_ girlfriend, which is beyond ridiculous considering how Ruben’s girlfriend is not half as pretty as some of the other girls at school and her nature is as pleasant as Ruben’s, and Stiles isn’t even going to attempt to insult the lack of intelligence she possesses as he could never describe it in such a way that she could comprehend what is being said. Needless to say, Stiles has never even glanced at Yvonne in any other way than in wonder of how someone as dimwitted as Yvonne had managed to get into high school.

 

The first punch from Ruben gets the air right out of Stiles’ lunges and the second one has tears pushing out for all to see, the hall is full of people but their reactions are either to stand there and watch or to hurry off and pretend they see and know nothing; no one tells the much larger boys to stop, to leave Stiles alone, not even when the third punch is aimed at Stiles’ face. After the punch that splits Stiles’ lip every insult and threat Ruben throws at him becomes unclear and all Stiles can hear is the rushing of his own blood in his veins, and the panic racing of his heart. The second punch to his face makes him see stars and Stiles wants to bend right over and empty his rather empty stomach all over Ruben’s brand new snickers which are in Stiles’ opinion butt-ugly.

 

Suddenly the punches stop and Stiles’ hears Ruben cry out, and then Jim Klein shouts out, `What the Hell Hale? ´ the words are barely out when no other than Derek Hale’s voice barks out `Let him go.´

 

It takes Stiles a moment to understand that Derek is telling the two assholes holding him to free him, this information dawns on Stiles when Derek growls out a furious, `Let him go or I’ll fuck-up your pretty-boy faces.´

 

`When did you start carrying about this piece of shit? ´ Adam French yells out, his hold tightens on Stiles wrist and it causes the smaller boy to whimper, `Or is he your private punching bag? Is that it, Hale? ´

 

`We’ll hold him for you.´ Jim says with a snicker.

 

The prospect of being beat-up by Derek so soon after Ruben has Stiles trembling. He really doesn’t want to start to bawl right there in front of everyone before the day has even truly begun.

 

Feeling exhausted and feed-up with the amount of abuse he has to handle each week, Stiles can finally feel his composure crack and break. Stiles could handle it all if he had at least one friend, just one person who could help him clean up his wounds and lie to him in a comforting way that everything will be okay; Scott had been that person once, but since Stiles had been forced to move Scott hadbecome just another memory that hurt as badly as each punch and hurtful word Stiles was forced to experience while at school.

 

Thinking about the one person Stiles had considered to be the closest person he could ever have as a brother, the memory of Scott’s goofy grin and puppy-dog eyes has Stiles suddenly in tears and he starts to beg for freedom so he could run and hide somewhere until he regained his composure.

 

Stiles can barely hear Derek speak. Stiles can barely make out how Derek orders the two holding Stiles up against the wall to let him go. It doesn’t surprise anyone that it’s Jim who is the first one to let go of Stiles, but still Adam protests loudly and is quick to call Jim a coward. Still, Adam follows Jim example soon enough but not before growling into Stiles ear a promise dressed as a warning, `When your slut of a sister’s fuck-buddy isn’t around, faggot, I’ll beat the shit out of you.´

 

Adamdoesn’t see the punch coming, but it still lands hard and unforgiving, the blow has Adam losing his balance and he drops to the floor with a loud thump. The hall goes absolutely still and silent, no one had even imagined such a thing possible. Honestly, neither had Stiles.

 

Cradling his pained hand against his heaving chest Stiles yells down at Adam who his trying stop the bleeding of his nose while looking shocked and almost afraid of the smaller boy towering above him, `You can call me faggot and whatever else you uninspiring mind can come up with! But you will never badmouth my sister or I will fucking kill yah! ´

 

**~*~**

 

Derek hears the whispered words. Derek made the enrage move to beat the life out of Adam French who had dared to speak ill of the one he loved, but to Derek’s surprise Stiles lands a rather impressive punch that doesn’t manage to break Adam’s nose but still had the boy bleeding profusely on the floor.

 

In the past Derek had beat the scrawny kid to the ground several times a day, and never had the smaller boy raised his hand against him; Derek had verbally and physically abused Stiles, and Stiles had neverdefended himself. It was strange seeing Stiles act like anything but the submissive little boyand Derek had grown accustom too it, and that was why it was such a shock to see Stiles throw a punch thatwas hard enough to draw blood. It was almost mind-blowing to see the wrath twist the pale features that had looked like permanently etched into an expression of surrendered sadness and everlasting loneliness.

 

Stiles had swung at Adam like it had been the most natural thing to do,like it was something Stiles had been doing since birth, but it really wasn’t normal or at least that was what Derek thought.

 

Derek stared at the boy who towered over the older teenager that was much stronger and larger than him, and Derek realized for the first time how sickly pale the boy was and how Stiles was far too thin, it was all so very wrong. And for second time in his life he could hear Paige asking him if he was trying push Stiles to end his life by his own hand; what Derek hadn’t realized until then was that he probably had been doing just that, pushing Stiles to end his life although it looked like the kid had chosen a slow and painful way of committing suicide.

 

Derek couldn’t recognize this person before him. Everything was out of sync and something about _this_ Stiles, made the young werewolf feel ill-at-ease. When Stiles spoke there was nothing familiar about the voice that did nothing to hide the pure hatred the boy had for the person splayed on the floor beneath his feet, there was not a single chime or tremble that would have made it familiar to Derek. Even the stuttering that had always been part of Stiles Stilinski, was no longer there and that alone made it all much more unnerving.

 

As suddenly as the change had come it vanished, and the Stiles Derek had picked on, the little boy Derek had bullied and beaten into tears was back. The heartbeat that had been unfamiliar with the steady and calm beats became once more rapid, and before long everything became normal and then the breathing with the heartbeat changed yet again and like a moment ago it was all very wrong.  

 

It took a second or two for Derek to figure out what was happening to Stiles, it came to him as the boy stumbled his way away from the scene of confused people all shocked by the sudden display of violence the strange kid had displayed. If Paige hadn’t talked about Stiles and his problems then Derek wouldn’t have known Stiles was having a panic attack.

 

_`He started having them after our mother died,´ Paige said as she rested her head against his shoulder, how their conversation had moved to the spastic kid of a brother she had was beyond Derek’s understanding, but he would allow Paige to speak about what she felt worthy to speak of as long as she was by his side. Derek tightened his embrace around her, and she let out a little sigh of contentment, and he could feel her smile against his neck. They had sat like that, Paige straddling him, for a while now at first it was just the best way of making out but later it became the best way of just being._

 

_`They’ve grown more frequent since we moved.´ Derek felt her smile drift away, and for a moment he thought he could feel the heaviness of her heart, `He tries to hide them from me, from our dad, but I can tell if he’s had them.´ Paige tightened her hold of Derek, her body pressed against his and soaking up the comfort and warmth he could give her._

 

_`Derek, I’m so afraid.´ Paige whispered, and the drop of a tear that escaped her fell down on a patch of skin Derek’s shirt had not managed to cover._

 

_`Of what? ´ Derek asked, he would kill what it was that frightened her; be it an Alpha or a witch._

 

_`Stiles is growing weaker and weaker, he’s had four panic attacks this week and it’s only Wednesday.´ Paige broke down in tears as she told Derek how she’d found her baby-brother during the past three weeks five times unconscious after a panic attack; twice he had looked more dead than alive and she was terrified she’d find him one day dead because his heart had finally given in._

 

Derek turned and glared at the three boys who had attacked Stiles and showing just a hint of the supernatural creature he was Derek growled a warning, `Touch him again and I _will_ break you down so badly that you can barely walk, and no one not even your mothers can recognize you again.´ Then Derek hurried off after the boy he had tormented for far too long.

 

The bell-rang and most of the students headed off to class, and as the noise died down with the exit of students Derek’s senses guided him with ease to the boys locker-room where he found Stiles Stilinski sitting in one of the darker corners.

 

Derek couldn’t stop the whimper that escaped him as he smelled the on slaughter of powerful emotional turmoil that had wrapped itself around the boy that looked suddenly several years younger, Derek had never seen Stiles look so small and fragile as he did then and there; the boy sat curled around his backpack that was empty as all the items it had held had been dumped carelessly on the tiled floor not far from where Stiles was huddled in, it was clear Stiles had for a brief passing of time tried to find something in the scattered ray of things and failed at finding it.

 

Derek felt his body grow cold as he heard the desperate attempts Stiles was making to breathe, but it was clear the boy could not get enough air in or out to sustain consciousness long; and the heartbeat sounded like it was just about to give up on the boy, but at the same time it was as if that strong muscles had no such desire.

 

`Stiles?´ Derek called out to the boy a few times until he was sure Stiles was far too gone to notice or hear him. For a second Derek thought he should just leave Stiles where he was at, perhaps standing on guard outside the door, but then he heard the struggle going on inside the smaller chests and he shook that thought out of his head and walked slowly over to the boy while sending a quick text to Paige wishing against all hope she had her phone on her; praying she wouldn’t ignore his message as she had done since Stiles had caught the two of them in the music room.

 

**Stiles is having a panic attack in the boy’s locker room. Not guilty.**

 

Derek kneeled down in front of Stiles, hands restless and unknowing of what to do with themselves; every instinct told him to reach out and touch as that was what his family did when someone was distressed, but Derek wasn’t sure if touching Stiles would do more harm than good considering the less than friendly relationship the two had. Derek wished that the physical contact he and Stiles had shared in the past hadn’t always been one of violence and humiliation, because then perhaps his fears would have been lessened to at least dare him to attempt for some contact with the boy now when it was obvious Stiles was unable to bring himself out of the hell he was trapped in at the moment.

 

`Stiles? ´ Derek called out to the boy once more, but it was as if Stiles unable to hear him because there wasn’t the slightest hint of recognition or acknowledgement.

 

`Stiles.´ Derek said with a slightly more demanding voice, but once more all Stiles did was continue struggling for air and shake so fiercely Derek might have mistaken for a moment someone had dropped the boy in a pool of ice-water even if the clothes on the child were as dry as Derek’s own were.

 

Derek reached out to lay his hand on the back of the neck and he almost stopped breathing when the bones underneath the cold skin felt like there was nothing but skin and bones there; Derek realized then that he might have so easily broken that neck during several of their encounters.

 

Derek was much stronger than this kid who really shouldn’t be in high school. Derek had of course known that Stiles wasn’t as strong as Derek was, but he had never thought about what his actions _might_ cause; Derek had never imagined any of it really hurting the boy that trembled there before him and gasping for air like a fish on land.

 

No one in Derek’s family would have been too badly hurt by his acts of careless violence, but there wasn’t a single member in his family that was human.  

 

`Stiles, ´ Derek breathes out as he moves a little closer to the boy, the fact that Stiles didn’t appear too bothered or repulsed by Derek gave the werewolf the confidence he needed; carefully Derek pulled one of the hands that held a death grip of the empty backpack and guided the hand up against his own chest, just above his heart, `Stiles, I need to you to try and mirror my breathing.´ 

 

Derek had to repeat his request a few times before Stiles shook his head, his brow drenched in sweat, it was clear the boy tried to say something but the struggle to breathe made speaking impossible and frustrated and fearful tears began to escape the boy and Derek left the hands where he had placed them and reached out to place his to guide Stiles’ head up so that he could steal the focus of those wide and terrified brown eyes; there was such fear and desperation in themthat Derek felt for a second an overwhelming urge to protect the boy.

 

`You _need_ to breathe with me Stiles.´ Derek kept his voice firm, demanding and unyielding even if he felt much weaker than what his voice suggested. It took a few more demands of obedience before Stiles yielded into Derek’s will and guidance. They sat there for what felt like forever, although it might have been mere minutes, before the door into the locker room and the frantic voice of his love came loud and clear, `Stiles?´

 

`Over here, babe.´ Derek called out from where he was sitting, hands still on Stiles who continued to struggle against the panic attack that continued to control his body. Within seconds Paige came to a sliding stop next to Derek, who wanted nothing more than to look over at Paige, but the intensity of Stiles panic gaze held him and from the way Stiles held his told Derek the boy was too far gone to even notice that his sister was there; Stiles didn’t even react to her desperate touch or her voice that called out for him.

 

`His inhaler, where is it? ´ Paige asked after she had tried to coax Stiles to recognize her, her eyes searching through the assortment of things scatted on the floor.

 

`Inhaler? ´ Derek asked, eyes locked on the dear-like ones that were glued on his.

 

`Yes. Inhaler. He needs it.´ Paige spoke while her hands sorted through the items on the floor, desperate to find what she was looking for but there was no inhaler; and soon she cursed out loud and ran her fingers through her hair as she tried to figure out what to do.

 

`He, heshould have spare one on him. He should have one.´ Paige said with an air of frustration, she pulled out her phone and stood up from where she was kneeling but soon she let out a frustrated scream that made Stiles flinch; but Derek tightened his hold on the boy, telling him to breathe.

 

`What can we do? ´ Derek asked while Paige made another call.

 

`Wait it out.´ Paige said, but she seemed as sure of this action as Derek had been about touching Stiles, `If my dad would just pick up his God damn phone, then he could bring us one of the spares at the house.´ Paige sat down next to her brother, wrapping her arms around his thin shaking body, giving Stiles as much human contact as possible.

 

The attack lasted for another seven minutes and twenty-nine seconds, until Stiles’ eyes rolled in his head and his body went limp as consciousness was lost.

 

`He’s going to be fine.´ Paige said as she ran her fingers through the short hair, perhaps she had caught the sudden spike of alarm that exploded in Derek as the body collapsed, `We should take him to the nurses office.´

 

Derek gave a shirt nod before scooping up the boy, once more Derek came to grow aware of how thin the child was. Paige hurriedly shoved everything Stiles had dumped on the floor back into the backpack, she frowned at the sight of all the untouched food Stiles had simply shoved into his bag instead of eating it; apples that looked like they were about to decompose right then and there, various bars everything from Mars-bars to Energy-bars, a few sandwiches from the cafeteria Paige had given him each of them in no shape to be digested, there were Reese’s which nearly had Paige in tears.

 

Derek wanted to wrap his arm around the girl, but he had to make sure he didn’t drop the boy in his arms. Derek looked at the boy in his arms so he didn’t have to see the sadness in the eyes of the girl he loved. Derek could see that Stiles wasn’t well, he could smell it as well; there were wounds that were slowly healing beneath the heavy layer of clothes, the boy was broken and Derek knew he had helped to keep him broken by the way he had treated him. Nothing Derek had ever done had helped the boy, everything thus far had been to cause him harm.

 

Derek felt absolutely horrible at the thought that he might have started the hell Stiles lived through at Beacon Hills High School, if he hadn’t been the first-one to start pushing the boy around then maybe Stiles could have moved through the halls without having to be tormented or at least Derek wouldn’t have to live with theknowledge that he had started the joined effort to make the boy regret starting high school. At least then Derek could have been guilt free.

 

All Derek could do now was to try and mend some of the damage, and this had nothing to do with wanting to gain access to Peter’s computer.

 

Derek would redeem himself in the eyes of Stiles and his sister, he would do his best to mend the bridges he had burned, and Derek would at least try to undo some of the damage. 

 

 


	11. You’re A Monster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The monster looks at Stiles and he is convinced that this is the night he will die, but even if Stiles desires death he had still wished for it to be one that didn’t leave his body all bloodied and broken; his father and sister really didn’t need to see him mauled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have this nasty habit of writing stuff and ideas and chapters (if I am most unfortunate) on napkins and any surface that I can find and take with me in a moment’s notice, and this very chapter had the unfortunate fate of getting created while I was at one the local coffee spots (I allowed myself a sinfully delicious cup of hot-chocolate, do not judge me) and inspiration hit and I was without any of my many notebooks or sketchbooks, but I had a pen with me and so I stole away a stack of napkins and scribbled the chapter down (forgetting of course perusal to write down the “page number and chapter”) and then at some point between leaving the café, sitting on the bus and walking home and reaching the day when this chapter was to be written I had magically lost half of the napkins (I suspect some were eaten by my lovely puppy) so the flow of this chapter is weak at best. Forgive me.

 

Since his panic attack which was witnessed by one Derek Hale it seemed like Stiles was unable to shake the older teenager off his trail, it seemed Derek had become obsessed with keeping tabs on Stiles. Derek’s sudden interest in him kept most of the people at Beacon Hills High School from harming the youngest student at the school, but it also left Stiles with Derek Hale who was by no means great company; Stiles had to endure Derek during classes which was rather reasonable, but even when they did not share classes the older teenager still managed to be standing outside Stiles classroom when the bell rang, and when lunchtime rolled in Derek made it impossible for Stiles to escape having to eat lunch. And because Derek dragged Stiles to lunch Stiles had to eat and spend time with not only Derek but with Paige and Heather, the two girls would accompany them and then on bad days some of their friends would join them; when their table was packed with people Stiles could barely sit there without feeling like he was being judged and glared at, he knew he wasn't wanted at the table. 

With Derek always around it became impossible for Stiles to ignore the obvious feelings that still existed between Derek and his sister, not for the lack of Stiles trying to ignore each longing look the two stole or shared; Stiles could not be blind to the fact that Paige and Derek were looking at each other the same way Stiles parents had looked at each other every day.

In the end it became dreadfully hard for Stiles to ignore the extent of his sisters longing, as well as Derek Hale’s look of sadness, and so one day just three days before Halloween Stiles Stilinski finally snapped.  Suffering through another lunch with Derek, Paige and Heather, while struggling through a horrible version of macaroni and cheese, Stiles could no longer ignore what was going on between Derek and Paige. 

Stiles was still disappointed with his sister over her betrayal, but he was still not heartless enough to allow his sister to suffer and be as unhappy as he was, and so when Heather started talking about the Halloween party she would be throwing at her house and after Stiles had caught another longing look pass between Paige and Derek Stiles just had enough of it all.

Stiles dropped his fork and pushed the tray away from him, even with the usual noise of the cafeteria the sound of the work hitting the plate and then tumbling down onto the tray was surprising loud to him, both Derek and Paige snapped their focus back on Stiles while Heather stopped her babbling.

 

`Derek you should take Paige to Heather’s party.´ Stiles said while looking at Derek and then at his sister who looked like she thought Stiles had finally lost his mind, then Paige turned to look at Derek who looked as surprised as Paige was by what Stiles had suggested to the both of them.

 

Stiles grabbed his tray and stood up, Stiles was aware that his voice was rather hallow although he had tried to muster something other than emptiness into his voice as he spoke. `You’ll look great together.´

 

`Stiles.´ Paige protested as she made a move to stand, a move Derek mirrored but Stiles was not having it, and told the two of them to sit down because he was heading to the library and really didn’t need a either one of them for that.

 

`Make your plans, ´ Stiles said as he walked away, `you two should really dress-up as something cool like Batman and Catwoman.´  

 

`Stiles.´ Derek said as he made a move to follow, but Stiles told him to sit back down and talk to his sister because Stiles really needed a break from Derek, and Paige really needed some Derek-time.

 

`Just, ´ Stiles sighed, `don’t hurt my sister Derek. Don’t make me regret this.´ and with those words Stiles walked away.

 

Stiles didn’t want to be friends with Derek Hale, but he did want Paige to be happy even if she wa had been a treacherous bitch.

 

While walking out of the cafeteria his phone chimed, like always he wished it was a sign that Scott hadn’t forgot about him but the message wasn’t from Scott; it was a simple invite to Heather’s party, and a quick confession that Heather agreed that Paige and Derek should go as Catwoman and Batman.

 

Stiles shakes his head, he is not going to some party on Halloween, he has his own plans that involves monster movies and handing out sweets to kids dressed in costumes he will pretend to admire. If Stiles were back home then he would be spending Halloween trick or treating with Scott, they’d eat themselves sick with candy while watching their favoritemonster movies after their little run around town; they had long ago figured out the best spots such as Miss Lane who always handedout chocolate bars and lollipops and on a good year she would also hand out a can of soda, they had also learned to avoidpeople like Mr. Bush who handed out some boringfruit. But Stiles was now living in Beacon Hills and that lefthim to figure out other ways to spend the long hours of Halloween.

 

**~*~**

 

Stiles doesn’t want to go, he really doesn’t, but Paige and Derek had been insistent on the issue of him going, and it didn't take much to get his father on the same boat with eyes sparkling bright with joy at the knowledge that his son had finally been invited to a party; be it Heather’s, and be it that Stiles is still a child. Still Alec Stilinski had been more than happy to let his son go to the party, but only for two hours as he didn't want to be judged to hardly by the people of Beacon Hills.

 

Stiles glares at his reflection in the mirror, feeling like a weak idiot for being unable to fight his sisters and fathers will; and the sad thing was that Stiles was dressed like something as dull as a pirate, he wished he could just kill his sister and it was not just because she had dressed him up like a pirate.

 

`Stiles! Derek’s here.´ Paige yelled through the door, sounding frustrated.

 

Stiles sighed and banged his head against the door a few times before finally taking the exit, although he had thought about leaping out of his bedroom window in the hopes the fall would break his neck and kill him, but then again with his luck he would just become a quadriplegic.

 

Paige was dressed like Morticia Adams because it was the only costume no one else had snatched up, and from Heather’s ability to hunt and gather knowledge it was clear no one else had chosen such a costume; there would be four girls dressing up either as cats or as a Catwoman, there were also going to be three sexy nurses as well as four cheerleaders.

 

`You look great.´ Paige said with pride, because of course she would think she had made the right choice, `Let’s get going. I promised Heather we’d be there in time to help out.´

 

Stiles grumbled out, `Great.´ which earned him a glare from his sister.

 

Derek was in the living-room with their dad who was still wearing his uniform. Stiles knew his father was wearing it because he wanted to make a memorable impression on Derek, to remind Derek he could really make Derek’s life a living-hell if he hurt his little girl. Stiles however had his doubts Derek would ever do anything to really hurt Paige, it was much more possible to see Paige being the one doing the hurting; and if that thought didn’t bring a cruel-side of Stiles alive.

 

Derek was dressed like the little basketball star he was, Stiles couldn’t help rolling his eyes at the uninspiring choice in costume, and he had to do it a second time when he caught the look of awe that his sister had.

 

`Ready? ´ Derek asked as he stood up, he couldn’t look any more uncomfortable even if Stiles would have shoved a wooden pole up Derek’s tight ass.

 

Paige nodded before hurrying off to give their father a goodbye kiss and promising him she would keep an eye on Stiles.

 

`Hale, take care of my kids for me.´ Stiles heard his father tell Derek as they shook hands, then Stiles was snatched by his father into a tight hug.

 

`Try and have some fun, son.´ was his father’s advice as Stiles made a move to follow his sister and her boyfriend out of the door, while hearing his dad promise he’d come and pick-up Stiles in two hours or if Stiles really needed to get home before that, `But _try_ and have some fun.´

 

Stiles knew his father was begging him not to call, but being the father he was Alec Stilinski would come if Stiles needed him. But dear God how clear it was that the man didn’t want his son to call him. Stiles promised his father he would try and have some fun, although Stiles was sure he would get his ass kicked within an hour of being at the party, but he would try not to disappoint his father.

 

**~*~**

 

Heather’s Halloween party turned out to be a bit too loud and a bit too crowded for Stiles’ liking, he kept reaching down to touch and pull out his phone each time thinking he should call for his dad to pick him up, but Stiles didn’t want to appear like the pathetic kid everyone knew him to be. It didn’t take long for Stiles to realize that a lot of the people at the party weren’t even students of Beacon Hills High School or young enough to be in high school. Although the house was packed and everyone from Beacon Hills High School had already arrived at the party, more people kept on walking into the party like they had been invited, and Stiles became more and more worried over it. But Heather didn’t appear bothered about it; even when Stiles pointed out that these uninvited guests were old enough to bring alcohol, while others were already drunk and obnoxious, Heather continued to ignore his advice of calling his dad or simply ending the party earlier than planned.

 

Stiles knew the night would end badly for Heather, he knew she would get into trouble with her parents once they came home to find the house in ruins. There was also the terrible chance that Stiles father would insist on seeing the inside of the party, and then there would be people getting arrested and Heather would be in a much deeper pool of shit than what she would be if it all just ended with her parents coming home to find the fine china broken and the fine carpets stained.

 

Stiles kept himself near the walls, avoiding getting dragged into conversations with people he knew cared very little for his company as well as avoiding those who he did not know and who just seemed too keen on knowing him; and since Paige disappeared off somewhere with Derek, Stiles was left to manage the situation he was in on his lonesome. Stiles tried to keep away from all the people, he tried to keep an eye on his drink at all times because that was one of the many things his father had drilled into his and Paige’s head long ago; his father would remind them even when in a nice family restaurant not to leave their drinks unattended too, he would remind them that there were predators that would gladly take any opportunity to get what they wanted.

 

Stiles felt his phone buzz in the hidden pocket of his costume, hoping it was his father calling to tell him he was coming to pick him up a bit earlier because of work or something. But it wasn’t his dad or Scott but Peter which was a surprise because it had been a while since Peter had contacted him; for a week Peter had sent Stiles a few texts and would call him before Stiles went to bed, just so they could chat or what Stiles would call "Peter fishing for knowledge and pretending to be actually interested in a loser like Stiles". But then as suddenly as Peter had appeared in Stiles' life he had vanished, no more calls or a few lines of words, nothing at all.  It had been weeks since Stiles had heard or seen a hair of Peter; of course Stiles had researched Peter after their little dinner, because he needed to know what he was up against, and Peter Hale was a legend at Beacon Hills High School – Hell, the Hales were legends at Beacon Hills - and Stiles had understood that people like Peter Hale wouldn't be interested in someone like him.

Not that Stiles wanted Peter to be interested in him. Nope. Stiles didn't want that. 

 

**You’re not at the house. Where are you?**

 

Stiles wasn’t all too surprised to find that Peter had just walked up to house expecting Stiles to be there, before Stiles could answer the text another one arrived from Peter it repeated the question of where he was and there was something rather demanding in the question that went unappreciated by Stiles. What right did Peter have to demand to know where Stiles was?

 

Stiles decided to ignore Peter’s demands for knowledge and pushed the phone back into its pocket, but soon he felt the phone vibrate with an air of stubbornness as Peter had stopped texting and moved on to calling him; a tiny smirk crossed Stiles lips as he imagined the outrage and the frustrated anger that started to grow inside the other male; Stiles found a strange joy in the knowledge that he could make a Hale’s life a little less perfect.

Stiles had just finished drinking his fourth can of soda, when Stiles turned his attention down at his phone, there was a familiar name glowing back up at him when he took a look at the three missed calls that had been born only after the five missed  calls from before. Stiles made a move to shove his phone back into the pocket that had kept the phone safe when all of a sudden there was a message from his father, the thing was that Alec Stilinski had yet to figure out how to successfully text a message and that meant Stiles had to use a great deal of brain power to cypher the message. A message that was followed by another and it took a while before Stiles could make out the message his father had tried to send him; and the news wasn’t great.

 

 

His dad had been called back to work, and he wouldn’t be able to pick Stiles up like he had planned on thus leaving Stiles to wait for either a late ride form his dad or Derek. Unhappy, miserable, Stiles walked into the kitchen that was the drinking hole of the party, Stiles grabbed one of the plastic cups and decided to try out the punch Paige and Heather had prepared; Stiles had helped slice the lemons, during which the knife had slipped and cut a long but not too deep gash on his thumb, Stiles hadn’t even noticed it but Derek who had been in the other room clearing breakable things was suddenly there taking care of the meaningless injury.

 

Thinking back to the moment Derek had snatched Stiles hand and looked at the damage Stiles had done unwillingly, Stiles couldn’t help butwonder about the strange event that just seemed to feed Stiles belief that there was something very strange about Derek Hale; once more a little smirk lifted Stiles lips as he allowed a delusion of Derek Hale being a werewolf or some other Supernatural creature to rise. There had been plenty of times Derek’s behavior had made Stiles wonder if he was entirely human, Derek had more than once appeared to have sniffed out Stiles when he was trying to avoid or hide from him; and there had also been times when there was something strange going on with Derek’s eyes and face when he got visibly upset or angry, and not to mention all that growling that seemed to go on with Derek.  

 

The punch had a funny taste, Stiles did note this as he sipped at it but because the taste became less and less offending which each tentative sip he stopped wondering about it and continued drinking the liquid that had a strong scent of lemon. It was only when he began to feel less anxious and far more relaxed than what he should have been feeling, that Stiles realized to his horror that someone had spiked the punch; alarmed by this fact and afraid his sister would drink from the cranberry-red liquid he quickly began to dump the mentioned liquid into the sink watching little lakes of red run down the drain with each cup-full he dumped, it took a great deal of running back and forth between the large bowl and the sink until Stiles had drained the bowl enough so that he could carry it and empty it without having it all end up on the floor.  

 

Stiles had just poured the last of the liquid that had a fruity scent down the drain when a firm hand grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pulled him back and away from what he had been doing.

 

`What the actual fuck are you doing you little shit? ´ the guy that was manhandling Stiles was definitely not a teenager. The bowl slipped from Stiles hold and drop to the floor shattering into a million tiny pieces as well as a few larger ones, the sound goes a miss due to the loud music and the man screaming at Stiles.

 

`I- I, ´ Stiles stutters before getting slammed against the large refrigerator, some of the ridiculous magnets with little notes rain down on the floor do to the sudden impact, the air escapes from Stiles lungs and for a brief moment Stiles can’t help but think that it was amazing how he couldn’t go anywhere without getting some asshole to slam him against a hard surface.

 

`Alcohol, there wasalcohol.´ Stiles explains before realizing that his explanation wouldn’t make his situation any better, and by the growing rage on the over eighteen-year olds face told him he was right.

 

Stiles knows by the movement of the shoulder, by the raise of his arm, that this stranger is about to beat the ever-living-crap-out of him or at least rearrange the shape of Stiles’ nose. By this strange instinct within him Stiles squeezes his eyes shut and braces for the beating instead of trying to prevent it, during his first week at High School Stiles had learned that fighting back would usually make things worse. But the beating doesn’t happen as this person who wasn’t even wearing a costume was pulled off of him, but this stranger doesn’t let him go instead pulls him with him; which causes Stiles to lose his footing and when he does he obviously lands on the remnants of a large bowl, Stiles cries out as his hands lands in the mess.

 

The commotion is confusing, there are people shouting, screaming and something roars and there is even a growl. Stiles looks up to see the stranger getting his ass handed to him by someone who looks an awfully a lot like Peter, except for the weird way his face looks inhuman and more beastlike it’s almost like something right out of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, but at the same time it is nothing like Buffy Vampire Slayer because it is all too real in appearance and then for a second Stiles sees something shift underneath theskin that covers Peter; Stiles could have and would have thought it just a trick of the light or a simple play of his mind, if he hadn’t seen a flash of gold in the blue eyes.

 

Pushing himself off of the floor, feeling the glass embedded in the palms of his hands, Stiles makes a move to get off of the floor because there just isn’t enough air in the room. His head feels like it’s invaded by tiny ants and beetles, and his vision is beginning to get blurred. Stiles pushes his way through the crowed that has quickly gathered to witness the fight that starts in the kitchen, while all Stiles can see is the monster that had been hiding underneath Peter’s skin.

 

The cold air is a welcomed change from the crowded heath of the house, Stiles takes several deep breathes and allows his mind to work out the strange details of Peter’s face and the glowing yellow of his eyes; and as Stiles ponders and rethinks what he had seen he realizes there had been a sudden sharpness and length to Peter’s teeth, there had been a growth of hair where none should have been, there had been claws.

 

`Holy shit.´ Stiles gasps and turns to stare up at the house, his phone firmly in his hand as he tries to call his sister to tell her that the man he now knows is his sisters boyfriends uncle is a monster; a real monster, and not the human sort but something right out of a novel or a movie. His heart is racing and there is a mixture of excitement and fear swirling around inside him, the two emotions battling one another, fighting for victory and power.

 

`Holy shit.´ Stiles repeats as he turns his back at the house for a second as he has to try once more to call his sister as he is asked by a generic voice to leave Paige a message, `Holy shit.´

 

Stiles is aware of how crazy he will sound when he starts to tell his sister that Derek’s uncle is a monster a honest to God a real supernatural creature; his sister will either groan out in frustration, or she’ll straight out call him crazy, or just start laughing before telling Derek what Stiles thought about a member of his family.

 

Suddenly there is a terrifying thought that pushes out the feeling of excitement entirely, and leaves Stiles absolutely fearful for his sister’s safety; what if Derek was a monster too?

 

`Stop kissing him and answer your God damn phone!´ Stiles screams at his own mobile phone after his fourth or fifth attempt to try to reach his sister, when he looks up after dialing his sister yet again he freezes at the sight of Peter hurrying across the lawn that has been turned into a very much unwanted parking lot. Stiles will deny it to the day he died, thathe squeaked at the sight of the monster before him.

 

`Stiles?´ Paige’s voice called up towards Stiles through the phone, but before Stiles can say anything Peter has his phone in his hand and raising it up to his ear. Peter is still wearing an appearance that his more of a monster than a man, and as he speaks there are sharp-fangs and but the eyes are their usual blue, there is an intensity in those blue orbs as they look upon Stiles.

 

`Hello Paige, ´ Peter says as soon as the phone is to his ear, voice smooth and calm, `Yes, it’s me Peter.´ Stiles doesn’t honest to God know what to do next, should he run or should he try and pry his phone out of the hands of a monster that could probably kill him as easily as he spoke, or should he just start screaming bloody-murder, `He’s fine. He just wants to get home.´

 

Stiles hopes his sister isn’t fooled by Peter, that she’d know him better than Peter does; she should know he wouldn’t leave the party with anyone but his father, and that if he did it would be his voice on the other end of the phone call telling Paige what he was planning to do.

 

`I’ll make sure of that.´ Peter says with a grave face, eyes looking over Stiles like there was something very wrong with Stiles.

 

`Do you want to talk to him?´ Peter asked Paige, and immediately Stiles made a move towards the phone, ready to demand his sister to leave Derek where he stood or sat or God forbid lay. But Peter backs away from Stiles, smiling slightly like he was enjoying some little game he was playing with Stiles, while still talking calmly with Paige, `That’s fine. No, it’s no bother.´

 

When the phone call ended Peter handed Stiles his phone, and when Stiles took it back the monster caught him by the wrist and spoke with an oddly cold and detached voice, `Come on, let’s get you home.´

 

`I’m not going with you anywhere.´ Stiles yelped and began to try and free himself from the monster, but the grip only tightened until it began to hurt and Stiles stopped struggling but by no means did he go quietly.

 

`This,´ Stiles points at Peter’s face drawing it out in a very ungraceful way, without even realizing that monster before him might chose to act like Stiles’ grandmother Paula’s Boston Terrier by the nameof Muffin had when Stiles had been five; Stiles had been trying to draw said dog and tried to figure out the details of the usually placid dog with his finger, not even touching the animal, when it suddenly jumped for the finger andsnapped its jaws enclosing Stiles index-finger and refusing to let it go until Stiles rather feisty grandmother knocked the dog out cold.

 

`This is not a mask.´ Stiles says without fearing the consequence of his knowledge, still drawing out the face before him with his index finger without touching the face.

 

`Don’t be ridiculous.´ Peter snorts, then starts to laugh in that horrible way people always did when it came to Stiles and it brought the boy ti an immediate stop.

 

Stiles was hurt and angry that Peter of all people would laugh and belittle him, especially when Peter knew Stiles was right about him, and with a voice that Stiles would not have thought possible to come out of his mouth he demanded Peter to let him go. Stiles would later wonder what it was about his voice or perhaps in the way that he spoke that made the tight hold around his wrist to lessen enough so that Stiles could pull himself free from the older male – the monster that had paused to stare at Stiles with wide eyes questioning eyes.

 

`You don’t get to laugh at me. You of all people do _not_ get to _laugh_ at _me_.´ Stiles yelled as his feeling of hurt truly gave way to anger, `I thought you were different – but you’re not – you’re just the same. You are like everyone else in this asshole of a town.´

 

Peter looked almost hurt by Stiles words, and as the younger male repeats the words, `You’re just the same.´ Peter tries to step closer to the upset boy who was barely a teenager, and with a voice that mirrored the almost broken look that the handsome face held, Peter spoke after a the short passing of the loaded silence, `Don’t say that.´

 

`Why not? ´ Stiles asks while glaring at Peter and stepping away from the poor excuse of an advance, `They all laugh at me. _You_ laugh at me. They all belittle me. _You_ belittle me.´

 

`I’m not.´ Peter insists, while still trying to get close enough to touch Stiles but Stiles will have none of that, because what trust may have for a brief passing played in his young mind after their dinner together had now shattered and Stiles would not risk any of himself to Peter. Stiles wouldn’t let another person in Beacon Hills to get under his skin, he would not allow another person to make him feel like nothing; just because he _was_ nothing didn’t give anyone the right to treat him like such.

 

While backing further and further away from Peter, Stiles says with as much venom as he can muster, `You sure seem the same.´

 

Peter just gapes at Stiles who decides he has had enough of Peter and his stupidly-handsome face, and begins to call Paige even if he has not a single shred of evidence to support the claim he is about to make against Derek, Stiles is determined to out both Peter and Derek; he will not risk losing his sister, he has already seen his mother laid to rest in the cold dark ground and is unwilling to see his sister join their mother.

 

If anyone in their family is meant to join his mother, it is Stiles because he was should have died with her that night.

 

Stiles had barely managed to speed-dial his sister when he felt a familiar but firm hold attach to his wrist, forcing him to give up the phone that would have dropped to the ground if not for the lightning-like reflexes of Peter who snatched the phone with ease while still holding on to Stiles.

 

`Let go of me.´ Stiles demanded furiously, while also making a grab for his phone watching as Peter ended the call to Paige that had barely started.

 

`What are you going to tell her?´ Peter asks, holding the phone as far away from Stiles’ reach as possible.

 

`Give me my phone.´ Stiles yelled at Peter who continued to separate him from his phone.

 

`Why? What are you going to do?´ Peter asked while keeping Stiles at bay, `Tell her some nonsense about monsters?´ there is a mocking tone in Peter’s voice that hurts almost as much as much as Stiles wrist does as he makes a move to try and reach for his phone, although there is a sharp pain Stiles does not cry out he just continues his struggle as his anger and hurt surge without halt, and as Peter laughs out, `You honestly think she’d believe you or that she would care, yousilly little boy.´ Stiles feels such a strong sense of betrayal and hurt that he spits at Peter.

 

There is a very visible burst of anger in Peter’s eyes that flash yellow and the fangs lengthen. Stiles is horrified by what he sees, and struggles more fiercely against Peter’s hold, because the monster he had seen in the kitchen and the one that had been there outside with him became much more vivid and perfectly supernatural. When Peter does let him go Stiles falls to the ground as gracefully as a sack of potatoes; Stiles ignores the pain he feels explode from his rear and starts to try and get some much needed distancebetween him and this monster that crushed his phone like it was made out of nothing.The moment the spit had landed on Peter’s face, right below his left eye, the flare of anger that explodes in the monster and Stiles has never been as afraid as he was then and there. Watching the pieces of his phonerain down on the damp ground, while a dangerous growl leaves the monster stalking towards him Stiles realizes he might actually die that very late evening and that his death might be very bloody and painful. 

 

With only one way for this night to end, Stiles understands that with his death that his father would have one less person to worry about; and he figures out that Paige would finally be the popular girl she could have always been if not for him, and above all Stiles would no longer need to pretend to be living. And with the thoughts bring him peace, which causes Stiles to stop trying to get away from Peter and he closes his eyes while saying his peace, `I’m glad I was right about you.´

 

There is an angry roar, then another one that sounds like his name being called out, it has Stiles opening his eyes and he looks up to see Derek crouching protectively in front of Stiles.

 

`Derek.´ Peter growls while pacing restlessly in front of Derek and Stiles, `Move.´

 

`No.´ Derek snaps, one of his hands reaches down towards Stiles, clawed fingers grasping tightly to the fabric covering Stiles chest, `You leave.´

 

`Derek? ´ Stiles breathes out, voice trembling, unsure of what Derek was doing.

 

`Move.´ Peter snarls at Derek, who huffs before shaking his head in refusal which makes Peter snarl at his nephews name with such displeasure it visibly makes the younger monster shiver.

 

Stiles curls his fingers around the wrist of the hand fisted around the fabric of Stiles stupid Halloween costume, with Derek there the eagerness for death falters and he realizes he doesn’t want to die leaving behind a mutilated body, his hold on Derek is a silent thank you and a wish for Derek to stay with him because Stiles has a nasty feeling Peter is not about to hug him.

 

`Go. Or. Face. Alpha.´ Derek’s words causes Peter to stop passing, the older monster goes absolutely still and silent, but his eyes are glowing yellow and it is almost like Peter is challenging Derek to live up to his threat; but then Peter lets out a howl that has Stiles covering his ears, before running off down the drive but before vanishing from sight Peter turns to glare at both him and Derek.

 

`You alright? ´ Derek asks, while Stiles allows his body to collapse entirely down on the damp ground. Stiles nods over and over again, he can still feel Derek’s hand clutching to him, and as he looks up at the other male he sees the similar shape on Derek’s face as he had seen on Peter’s; although it was clear Derek was younger and less eager to draw blood.

 

`What are you two?´ Stiles asks, although he had planned to thank Derek even if he feels suddenly a bit saddened by his possible death being passed to a later date.

 

Derek’s eyes go comically wide and his free hand rises to his inhuman face, and asthe bones shift and change to bring forth the familiar face of Derek Hale, the older teenager says with a low voice, `A monster.´

 

Shaking his head Stiles says with a sure voice, `No. Not a monster, just something different.´

 

Derek looks almost in awe of Stiles, eyes wide and everything about Derek looks suddenly much younger and much more vulnerable. And Stiles can’t help but wonder why his words had such a reaction on the older boy. 

 


	12. I’m Not Ready to Back Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The bedroom reeks of Stiles and Derek, and if he didn’t know better he might have thought his nephew was right there waiting to bounce on him. He hates the way Derek has grown close to Stiles, the way his smell had leeched into the fabrics of the room, he wants and needs to punish both his nephew and the boy so the two learned and understood to whom Stiles belonged too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, yes, I admit I played this chapter up rather poorly, due to time being against me and I really lost the spark to write it. But my Dove didn’t mind it and I hope neither do you. The only thing I like about the chapter is the slight madness in Peter.

 

Stiles knew he shouldn’t have done it, he knew this was the sign that what had once been just another mechanism with which Stiles had been able to handle the world and all the ray of emotions that became far too easily overwhelming; his saving grace had turned into something ugly now, even an addiction. The blade and the blood had now turned into a problem.  

 

Stiles knew the moment he had felt the need or the itch as he preferred to call it, that he should do everything but what his mind was telling him he needed because Stiles shouldn’t have needed it. Stiles shouldn’t need it when the day had been as good as it had been; he had survived the day at school without anyone shouting insults at him or pushing him around like the spineless ragdoll he tended to be, Derek had been far too interested in Paige and Paige in Derek to notice Stiles not eating the lunch Derek had brought him, Coach hadn’t yelled too much and even thrown a short compliment at Stiles during practice. Gerald Argent hadn’t been trying to convince Stiles to leave Lacrosse for his preferred activity, not because Mr. Argent had stopped trying to recruit Stiles no it was simply because the man had been off sick. Then there had been the hour Stiles had been able to spend playing one of the newer video games his dad had bought him after Stiles had aced two tests and three pop-quizzes, it had been nice. It had been a good day.

 

Having Derek around, almost like a friend had become a thing after Derek’s confession of what he and his family were. Derek and Stiles had talked about Derek and his uncle, as well as the rest of Derek’s family and their little furry-secret; they had sat outside Heather’s house while the party continued and just talked, it had been humbling thing to know that Derek trusted Stiles not to betray his trust or his family for that matter.

 

It was astonishing to find out that Derek came from a very old family where everyone was a werewolf, and each member had been born as a werewolf. The reason Stiles had started liking hanging around Derek was because the older teen seemed to appreciate Stiles interest in understanding what a werewolf was, and from what Stiles could tell Derek was rather interested in the amount of research Stiles had done on the subject; Stiles had even allowed Derek to borrow the notebook Stiles had filled with his research and hos conclusions and wonders, when Derek had brought the book back he had answered the questions Stiles had scribbled done on the pale-pages. It had been a bonding experience of sorts, one that Stiles had never imagined could happen.

 

 

Stiles had never thought that it possible that he would come to consider Derek something near a friend, they weren’t really friends not yet as it would take time and even with time it might never happen.

 

But anything was possible and there was something there that seemed stubborn enough to grow into a friendship.

 

Once Derek appeared to realize that Stiles had nothing against werewolves, the older teenager began to hang around Stiles more than before and with more it meant that Stiles had to spend a few hours of the week watching Derek run around on the basketball court; and having Derek watch him during Lacrosse practices, and an hour during the school-week at the new Stilinski house just for the easy access to a computer and because Derek had finally figured out the usefulness of Stiles brainpower. However if there weren’t any homework to work through, and if Paige had homework while Derek and Stiles didn’t the two males would spend their “Paige-free-time” playing videogames while talking about werewolves and other creatures Stiles had considered mythical-beasts.

 

Stiles sighed as he made his way from the bathroom to his bedroom, Derek and Paige had left an hour ago for a date; which would involve Derek Hale spending an hour watching the latest romantic comedy that probably held nothing new on the subject of romantic comedies.

 

With the house empty, with the privacy ensured, the itch came and without even thinking about passing it by, Stiles made his way upstairs and bathroom where he had hidden another set of tools with which he could ease his pain with; the second stash had become necessary after Derek had found the first one, the werewolf had been furious and made Stiles promise to stop using the blade in the pretty little box and Stiles had promised.

 

Entering the bedroom prepared to drop on the bed that was now an actual bed and not some mattress since Derek started hanging around Stiles felt he needed to at least have a bed in his room; and since Derek had started hanging around, the older teenager had brought a few posters to brighten up the room. Stiles wanted to attempt to sleep of all his feelings of guilt and the ache he felt over being so weak, hoping the sleep would take away the sudden urge to go back into the bathroom and cut a few more lines on his already damaged flesh: living a life full of guilt and self-loathing was exhausting.

 

But before Stiles gets even near to falling onto his bed like some emo teen, he notices that one of the windows in the room is open and at first he thinks that Derek has come to call, because the teenager liked sneaking in through Stiles window, but then his mind warns him that Derek is out on a date with Paige; and the moment the thought slips to him like a whisper warning that should be taken to heart, he sees something move just at the side of him and with an alarmed squeak Stiles flails away from the figure, stumbling and falling to the floor ungracefully.

 

`P-Peter.´Stiles stutters when he realizes who it is that looms above him. Peter is standing where Stiles only safe exit is, so he is left with only trying to stay away from the werewolf’s reach.

 

Stiles forgets his guilt and the stinging pain that had felt comforting before all the ungraceful movements that have caused Stiles to end up on the floor, turn into what he could only describe as a sharp pain. But the pain isn’t important, not when all Stiles can think about is that his sister or father will find his mutilated body and that is just something he doesn’t want either one of them to see; hopefully Derek decides to stop-in on Stiles before anyone of his remaining family does, Stiles had less of a problem with traumatizing Derek than what he has with doing so to his remaining family.  

 

`Stiles.´ Peter’s eyes flash yellow and his voice is full of anger. The werewolf starts to move towards Stiles who does his best to move further away from the older werewolf, but far too soon the wall stops him; and Peter bounces forward and cages Stiles who thinks about pleading for Peter to spare a thought about his family and even Peter’s own family and even Peter himself considering how there are rules against hurting fragile humans like Stiles.

 

Derek would know, Stiles knows Derek would know who it was that snuffed-out the life that was Stiles Stilinski. And Derek is too honest not to tell his Alpha about who had been sniffing and growling around Stiles before the unfair massacre in the smallest bedroom of the Stilinski house.

 

**~*~**

 

Peter has had enough. He is done keeping his distance from the boy. Peter had kept his distance, trying to give Stiles time to get over Peter’s sudden lack of control and to give himself much needed time to figure out why he had such difficulty not giving in to each little urge the boy sprung inside of him.

Peter ran to the Stilinski house, not wanting or desiring to have another talk with the older Stilinski he decided before leaving the Hale House to sneak into the bedroom of the boy. Peter ran as fast as he could, the feeling of freedom and excitement that surged through his veins were a welcomed changed after weeks of keeping his wolf bound and gagged.

Peter slowed his run to a brisk walk as he neared the Stilinski house. He knows Stiles probably will probably order him to leave, and Peter will but only after they’ve talked things through and only after Stiles agrees to give him one more go; these past few weeks have been almost as agonizing as the time Peter got wolfsbane poisoning, and it bothers him that Stiles has managed to worm his way so deep beneath his skin that a week of silence feels like a month.

Peter is pleased to find the driveway empty, it will at least give him privacy with the boy; he knew Derek had gone out on a date with Paige, this information had come from Laura who had looked almost excited by the prospect of her little-brother dating a human.

 

Peter knows he could go to the front-door and have the doorbell announce his arrival, but a part of him wants to surprise Stiles and so he makes his way into the house through one of the windows that he knows are a part of Stiles bedroom; he hurries to ascend the building Peter is rather surprised to find the bedroom window unlocked, it seemed strange considering how Stiles was deputy Stilinski’s son, but then again he is glad of it as it makes it all so much easier for him to slip into the bedroom of the young boy.

 

Peter pauses almost as soon as one of his limbs have slipped inside the bedroom, with one foot in and the other outside Peter freezes; the bedroom reeks of not only Stiles but Derek as well. His nephews scent has leeched into the fabrics of a room that does not look like the proper room of a teenager, the smell of Derek in the private chamber of the boy Peter is after it flares a fury of possessiveness he had not yet experienced with anyone else but the boy.

 

He skulked around the room, inhaling the scent if his prey and the intruder which he would deal with as soon as the traitor was without the protection of pack.

 

Peter crouched down by the bed the sheets were crumpled and stained, the smell of youthful arousal and come made Peter want to find the boy and just fuck that virgin body until Peter’s seed was released inside the young body, to make the boy understand he belonged to Peter and Peter alone. Peter wanted it so much, to just take what he wanted from the boy, but his want faltered at the strong scent of Derek as Peter threw the blanket that had been tossed on the floor.

 

`Derek.´ Peter growled, claws out and normal human teeth replaced with sharper ones, he wanted to rip the blanket into nothing. He wanted to mark his territory, he wanted to rub himself all over the bed until Stiles was tucked down and around his scent; but the sound of Stiles making his way towards the sad excuse of a bedroom, halted any such attempts.

 

Peter moved away from the bed, not wanting to be looked at as a pervert. He placed himself in the corner near the door, standing there waiting. Not lurking, just waiting.

 

The stench of regret and unhappiness are almost completely drowned out by the fresh scent of blood, they greet Peter even before the bedroom door is pushed open and the lithe figure enters the room. Peter sees the moment Stiles senses that something is off, and Peter decides to make his presence known, the reaction of the younger boy is one of flailing limbs and Peter doesn’thave a chance to catch the boy before he tumbles to the floor; Peter was only inches away, a second or two late to stop the boy from crashing to the floor.

 

The werewolf felt like beating himself up for his slowness, if he had been an Alpha instead of a simple Beta then he could have easily reached the boy in time and prevent the fall from ever happening; thenagain if he _were_ an Alpha he would have the boy in his pack, and Peter would’ve punished Derek for intruding on the kid that he was so clearly after.

 

Peter Hale was sure that Stiles would make an excellent werewolf even now when he was all broken and torn, and as an Alpha Peter would make Stiles perfect.  Peter could oh so easily imagine going out on hunts with the boy, running side by side through the preserve; Stiles would be fast even if not as graceful in his movements as Peter would be, Stiles would chase their prey down and Peter would kill it and together they would devour it. Peter would allow Stiles to feed on the heart in show of affection and praise.

 

The thought made Peter’s wolf desperate for their little fantasy to be true. With their support the boy would bloom into something other packs would envy. Other Alpha’s would want to be Peter, would want to have what Peter had gained in Stiles.

 

`Stiles.´ Peter says after he was brought out of his silly little fantasy, Peter would never become the Alpha unless his sister was suddenly killed and even with Talia’s death there was still the risk of Laura becoming the Alpha. Peter tried his best to keep his voice as soothing and gentle as possible but he knows he has failed at it for his fangs are still out and so are his claws when his well-manicured fingernails should have been there so close to the breakable skin of the boy.  

 

The fear that had been right there beneath all those other smells that hurt Peter’s sensitive nose and made him restless spiked. The fear exploded through all the sadness and loneliness hiding the stench of misery and self-loathing that had been coming from the boy in the floor.

 

It is all enough to anger and disappoint the werewolf. Peter had expected so much more from the boy. The disappointment and anger began to grow as the boy began to make his feeble attempt to get as far away from him as possible. Peter will not let _his_ toy escape from him. _He_ will _not_ be ignored any longer. He will _not_ be _replaced_ by Derek.

 

With his anger at the forefront Peter cages Stiles against the wall, but the explosion of fear that hits his senses hurt almost as bad as the few times Derek has managed to claw Peter deep enough to make a difference during their fights, the anger the werewolf had fallen under dissipates somewhat. And he gets as close as possible to the human and rests his forehead against the slightly clammy one of the boy who whispers out a fearful, `Please.´

 

The fragile plea hurts, and the beast within him shrinks back while Peter does his best to calm the child down; he reaches out to cup the pale cheek with a fine assortment of dark moles, he makes sure the touch is gentle.

 

`Shh, little one.´ Peter says as another trembling plea falls from the lips that Peter wants to lick and taste, kiss and bite. He feels bad about frightening the boy but there is just something about Stiles that drives him mad. There’s just something about this boy that has him losing control.

 

`I’m not here to hurt you.´ Peter said with a voice that was unnaturally kind and gentle, he would have felt ashamed off it if anyone but this frightened boy had heard it, `Please believe me, I would _never_ hurt you.´

 

Stiles’ eyes grew, if possible, even wider and stared at him for a moment before finally speaking without unnecessary pleads of mercy.

 

`Y-you were going to a-attack m-me at the p-p-party.´ Stiles stuttered, voice still so distorted by fear, and the alarming race of his young heart told the werewolf alone Stiles’ reluctance to believe his sincerity.

 

Peter draws his hand that had still been splayed against the wall up to cup the pale cheek, it was either to touch the boy or bring his fist through the wall. Framing the young face, feeling shivers through the fine skin that felt cool to the touch, Peter shook his head for he had not meant to harm the boy that faithful night when everything had gone so terribly wrong. When _he_ had lost all control at the sight of another asshole abusing _his_ boy, Peter had already been on edge before that just because Stiles hadn’t been where Peter knew the boy would be safe and sound, he lost his composure because Stiles was left to defend himself against a much older person. And then there had been the way Stiles scent had been rubbed off on various unworthy individuals, it had been almost as bad as finding Derek’s scent now all over the bedroom and his Stiles.

 

It was almost as if Derek had scent-marked the boy and the house as _his._

 

`I-if D-Derek hadn’t b-b-been there y-you w-would...´

 

Peter silenced the boy by placing a finger against that fine mouth with bow-shaped lips, Peter had always liked that shape but on this young boy they were simply a divine creation. Stiles fell silent, which pleased Peter as he needed to explainhimself, to make Stiles understand he was not a monster or at least to understand he was not someone Stiles should fear.

 

`I would never hurt you. _Ever_.´ Peter said, resting his forehead back against Stiles’, `I was upset that night. You weren’t at home. You refused to give me the time of day. And when I found you it was at a party where people were not just drinking Mountain Dew. I could smell you all around those drunken-fools that were grinding up-against one another.´ the memory causes a slip of a growl to escape, which has Stiles pushing his back harder against the wall as if trying to somehow make himself vanish through it. Peter strokes the pale cheek gently, while the other hand goes to rest on Stiles hand that is uselessly attempting to push Peter’s body further away from his own.

 

`I lost it when I saw you being mistreated. I let my anger out and I am sorry for making you think I was out to get you.´ Peter feels it, he honest to God feels it, he can feel Stiles accept it perhaps understand it. He can sense how Stiles slowly trusts Peter not to rip out his throat and it pleases him.

 

`And when you proceeded to say such horrible things to me, use words that cut me deep. I wanted to force you to see that I was nothing like those idiots who are to ignorant to see anything beyond themselves. I see you. I _see_ you Stiles Stilinski.´

 

Stiles stared at Peter, and Peter knew Stiles was searching for the lie but there would be none. Peter could lie well-enough to make it true, but this time he held to the truth which was rather surprising in itself.

 

`I never wanted to make you feel like nothing. I never wanted to make you feel like anything but the brilliant boy you are.´

 

`I-I’m n-not.´ Stiles stuttered. Peter could smell the confusion and doubt that was like acid, slowly breaking this beautiful boy into pieces. Peter would not allow it, if anything would destroyStiles Stilinski it would be Peter Hale and Peter Hale alone.

 

`You are.´ Peter said with a firm voice while demanding the full attention of the one who couldn’t see what a marvel he was. Peter could smell the emotional turmoil inside the boy; he could smell the oncoming tears long before any evidence could be seen in those doe-like eyes.

 

Peter wrapped Stiles into his arms and held him tightly, rubbing what he could hope were soothing circles against the back feeling the bones beneath the skin. Peter hated feeling all those bones he knew should have been at least a bit more covered up than what they were on Stiles, it worried him whether or notStiles would be healthy enough for Peter to chase his pleasure within the lithe body.But he also didn’t care, because he wanted and desired the boy more than he had ever desired another person; there was only one thing he wanted more than Stiles and that was to be the next Alpha of the Hale pack.

 

 

 


	13. To Date or Not to Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter Hale would till the day he died insist that he had taken the younger Stilinski out on at least ten proper dates, while Stiles would have argued the number much higher as the two had lunches and dinners at Stiles favorite diner in Beacon Hills at least once a week; but Peter would quickly point out those were not dates, because a date involved a deep thought process, while Stiles would have argued just being together after some planning to do so would be considered a date. But as mentioned Peter Hale believed they had officially had ten dates after Peter had sneaked into Deputy Stilinski’s youngest offspring bedroom.  
> If ever questioned on the success of these said ten dates Peter Hale would be forced to admit that some dates had been more successful than others and some had been complete disasters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My friend asked for Stiles and Peter little dates here and there, but because of my limited time to write this fic I decided to make a chapter that held these little dates which were a pain in the ass to come up with. This is by far the worst of the worst chapters (in my opinion and I thought about offing it, but it just created a giant hole in the feeling of things, and I sort of maybe liked the way it gave glimpses into Peter). But you’ll find something good here or there. Oh and just to give you this info (unless someone had lied to me, if so there will be blood!) Oighrig means in Scottish Gaelic something like “new speckled one” and Caoimhe is derived from Gaelic caomh which should add up to “beautiful, gentle, and kind.” If I’m mistaken then I do apologize to those I have offended!

 

Peter Hale would till the very end of his days insist that he had taken the younger Stilinski out on at least ten proper dates, while Stiles would have argued the number much higher as the two had lunches and dinners at Stiles favorite diner in Beacon Hills at least every other weekend; but Peter would quickly point out that sitting at a diner at random were not  _proper_   dates, because a _proper_ date involved a deep thought process, while Stiles would have argued just being together after some planning to do so would be considered a date. But as mentioned Peter Hale believed they had officially had ten dates after Peter had sneaked into Deputy Stilinski’s youngest offspring bedroom.

 

If ever questioned on the success of these  ten dates Peter Hale would be forced to admit that some dates had been more successful than others and some had been complete disasters.

 

Their first-official-date ended up being not one of the ones Peter would even try and masquerade as a successful one. It was not due to lack of thought that this date turned sour, because Peter had done planned it out with care. Deciding that their date should be one of light-heartedness and so Peter ended up taking Stiles to the Winter Fair, this little date was planned to help young Stiles to see some of the good with living in Beacon Hills and at the same time it would help Peter keep his hands off of the boy as he knew that the older Stilinski and her daughter with Peter’s nephew were going to be at the Fair while rest of Peter’s family and pack were kept away as the younger members were suffering from the pull of the full-moon; it seemed to Peter as though the Moon itself was on his side and wished him to gain the trust of the boy, well at least it had until everything went wrong.

 

The weather had been a bit chilly but Stiles had dressed wisely, unlike some of the other fools who had their date at the fair; there was nothing more miserable than a cold girlfriend who was sulking because her fingers and toes were frozen. The first-half of their date goes by fairly well, even if Stiles keeps his distance from Peter who keeps moving instinctually closer and closer to Stiles; all Peter wanted to do was to reach out to Stiles, pull him in and close to his body or to just  hold hands, but Stiles was skittish about such things so Peter kept his hands to himself.

 

Stiles seemed happy enough just walking around and trying out some of the games, buying a few handmade gifts for his father and sister; him not buying Peter one was like a small sting, an evidence that he had yet to successfully charm his way into the suspicious heart of Stiles Stilinski.

 

But even if Stiles hadn’t been convinced Peter was a part of his near-future the teenager grew more relaxed and began to laugh with eyes alight, and soon Peter learned the witty little tongue that had been trapped underneath layers and layers of self-doubt and distrust. And Peter didn’t just like hearing Stiles laugh. No, Peter loved the rising sound that would explode like a glorious show of fireworks against a dark night sky. The sound was as clear as a cold winter day, when the air was crisp enough to tickle his nose. Peter loved the way Stiles talked so excitedly about anything and everything, the boy could make anything sound brilliant and worth to know and listen. Stiles was something fresh and different, something special that confused and thrilled Peter all at once and that just made it incredibly hard not to just drag Stiles off and take everything Peter wanted from him; but Peter wasn’t willing to rape the boy like some mindless beast, and that was enough to deter him from acting on his wants and of course he knew that one day Stiles would be ready and willing to give his body to Peter.

 

Perhaps if Stiles hadn’t got food poisoning, like everyone else who had made the mistake off eating one of Miss Hetty’s mince pies, then perhaps the date would have been the success Peter had wished to be; instead of success and a possible hug at the end of the date Peter ended up having to watch as Stiles was rushed to the hospital in a God damn ambulance. But at least Peter had shown off his skills in winning Stiles a great big plushy bear and a panda twice, and before the being sick part Stiles had visibly enjoyed himself which was a treat for the werewolf to enjoy.

 

Their first-date might not have been a perfect one, but it wasn’t a complete disaster.

 

**~*~**

 

Their second date was an improvement to their first-one. Peter picked Stiles up from school in the middle of the week, which meant he was ditching a few of his own classes and responsibilities to get there in time to steal Stiles away from Derek. Stiles had been utterly surprised to see Peter walking up to him in the middle of the week and just taking his hand and dragging him off, Peter had simply told Derek who had been standing right there to tell Paige Peter was taking Stiles the museum; which wasn’t a lie. Stiles hadn’t complained, moaned, or made any snide remarks the entire hour they spent moving through the small museum in Beacon Hills, he listened respectfully as their guide told them this and that about the items on display.

 

Even if Stiles was interest in a few of the item on display Peter could still sense and smell the slight unhappiness that would at times come from the boy who still made no show of his true feelings; always asking questions.  Their guide smiled happily at Stiles during each question she could answer correctly, only to frown when the answers escaped her or she got them wrong and Stiles corrected her without much thought. It was pleasing to Peter to learn that the boy truly possessed a great mind on him; the people Peter usually brought to his bed were not even half as intelligent as the boy was.

 

Once the tour had ended, which appeared not to have ended soon enough for their guide, Peter took his young date over to a man who was very familiar to Peter because they were related by blood and not by marriage. Guiding his young date over to the door which held the words **Private** and **Museum Personal Only** , Peter made sure nothing about him would give his brother Richard clue that Peter wasn’t doing anything else than entertaining Derek’s girlfriends little-brother for a few hours so that the Alpha’s son could have some privacy with the girl whom he claimed was his mate.

 

Rick smiled wildly at Peter and then at Stiles before introducing himself rather loudly and proudly to Stiles as Peter’s big-brother, from their appearance had been enough of a clue for Stiles to know that the two were closely related; although Peter was at least ten-years younger than Richard Hale.

 

After a short little chat by the door, during which Richard questioned Stiles on his opinion on the state of the museum; Stiles gave his honest answer which had Richard laughing loudly, he agreed that when it came to the guide there was much to improve. Richard then proceeded to swipe his keycard that unlocked the heavy set of double doors, and took both Peter and Stiles down into what Richard called the vault.

 

The vault was a vast area bellow the museum, Richard explained that only a select few were ever allowed down into the vault, and even fewer were allowed to see what Richard had dug out from several smaller vaults within the great vault. Stiles entire being had started to vibrate with excitement at the thought of being privilege enough to experience the one well-kept secret of Beacon Hills, and it pleased Peter to find their second date giving Stiles such a reaction.

 

Feeling Stiles’ excitement Peter smirked at his brilliant choice of a date, and seeing how Richard was as eager to show Stiles all the little secrets he had dug out for Stiles made the older-brother blind when it came to Peter’s reaction and feelings towards the boy.

 

Richard took Peter and Stiles into a small room where the walls were blank and painted a dull-grey color, there was old table in the middle of the room with a sheet of glass on top pf it; on the table there were three books, each old and worn-out in appearance one in particular looked like a touch or a breeze could turn it into dust.

 

Richard handed white gloves to each of them before he proceeded to open each book, revealing the pages he had chosen. The thickest book was left to be browsed as the ending treat before the time to leave had arrived, the first book was one that was thin with pages that were slightly stained and worn at the edges.

 

On the two pages before Peter and Stiles were two images of what could be considered one of the oldest drawings of the transformation of a werewolf from human to a beast, it was a crude drawing but a bit more accurate than some of the things Stiles had found on the internet and the library back home. Peter watched Stiles as he admired the images before him, it was clear Stiles was trying to take in each detail, while Stiles appreciated the image in the little book while Peter appreciated the beauty of Stiles.

 

The second book that lay near the edge of the table just like the first one, was in much better shape than the two others, the book was hardly as interesting as the first one as it told the tale of Beacon Hills creation; although the name had been up for debate a good while before the towns people had finally agreed on the name Beacon Hills.

 

Then came the third and final book, which Richard handled with great care and he smiled at Peter as he opened a page and showed them the first Hale’s that had settled in Beacon Hills, they were not the first families to settle in the town; no, the Hale’s had arrived much later, when the town was already built and established. Still, there was an air of pride in Peter as Richard read out the names of the first Hale’s, mentioning this and that about those souls that had settled themselves amongst the trees; one of the first Hale’s had been a physician while another one had been a hunter, most of the names of the first Hale’s had been passed along through each generation.

 

Once they followed the births and deaths of a few more Hales, those who truly were born and breed in Beacon Hills, Richard moved further back into the beginning of the old book until he pointed at a set of names and said, `And here young master Stilinski are your ancestors.´

 

**_Caoimhe Oighrig Sheehy._ **

 

The name meant nothing to Stiles. Nor did the name of the man Caoimhe Oighrig Sheehy married, or there seven children of which all but four survived.

 

`It is from here you mothers roots begin in this great country of ours.´ Richard stated after a durable length of silence had passed, `Some older members of this town would say you are a Beacon Hill’s child simply by Caoimhe’s blood.´ Then he proceeded to educate Stiles with the knowledge that his mother, Claudia had lived in Beacon Hills until she was six years old; but ones her father had perished from a prolonged illness her mother who was Stiles grand-mother who was not been born in Beacon Hill’s unlike Claudia’s father, decided to move her small family out of town.

 

`I should say, “Welcome Home” Richard said with a wide smile before closing the book.

 

Peter hoped showing Stiles that he indeed belonged in Beacon Hills would be enough to keep the boy from truly leaving, to keep him there where Peter would end up living out his days; even if they would not spend their lives together, Peter wished to keep the boy near so that if possible Peter could one day give the boy the bite that would bind him to Peter and Peter’s family.

 

 ~*~

 

The third date was one spent in Stiles bedroom after the poor boy had caught a nasty cold, which Stiles had not told Peter about and it was only when Peter called Derek while infuriated by Stiles’ sudden refusal to answer his calls and messages; to calm Peter down Derek let it slip that Stiles was probably just too sick to bother with such things as answering his phone or messages. Needless to say Peter felt an urge to make sure the boy was cared for and so left at once to care for _his_ human, and as he drove for hours on end Peter made plans, and when he arrived back home in Beacon Hills it was just an hour shy from the time he knew Paige would head off to school and as he drove past the Stilinski house he saw that the deputy had not taken leave to stay at home with his unwell son; Peter hurried off to prepare for the hours he would spend attending to the needs of an ill-human-child.  

 

Ten minutes after Paige speeded away from the house with her friend Heather, Peter was at the front-door of the Stilinski house and rang the doorbell.  Peter had indeed been prepared to find Stiles unwell, but what opened the door looked more like a dead Stiles – well, a walking dead Stiles and Peter cursed Stiles father and sister while he quickly ushered the boy back inside and to the nest that had been made on the couch.

 

Peter wrapped his sick little pet in the blankets and did his best to make the boy as comfortable as possible on the couch.

 

Honest to God Peter had no idea how to tend to someone with a common cold as his own family were pure-blooded werewolves and had thus never fallen ill with even the sniffles. Still, Peter had done his research before heading to the Stilinski house on the last Friday before the Holidays started for everyone; Stiles was missing his last day of school and the trip out of Beacon Hills for some modern Christmas play, it was all such perfect timing that Peter can’t help but once believe that he is blessed by the moon.

 

Peter happily fusses over the sick boy, he made chicken soup from scratch and he was rather pleased with how he had managed to do so without burning down the house as the Stilinski’s stow had a temper of its own; and thankfully Peter was a werewolf or he would have had nasty burns to prove he had been playing chef in a kitchen that needed remodeling ASAP.

 

Peter picked up all the used tissues before snuggling next to the shivering boy, feeding him even if Stiles had protested at first the soup, the pleased little sounds that came from Stiles with each spoonful Peter slid into the mouth of his favorite human. 

 

Peter remained near the fever inflicted body that shivered even with a werewolf latched to its side. While Stiles leaned against Peter and watched It’s A Wonderful Life, Peter did his best to leech away some of the pain and discomfort that made Stiles whimper every time he moved. And when Stiles finally dozed off, Peter ran his fingers over the crown of the head that held a brain that had a habit of surprising Peter with its knowledge. As Peter himself began to drift into the land of dreams, feeling comfortable with the unfamiliar yet familiar weight plaster against him on the lumpy couch, he had to admit the date was perfect even if the boy hadn’t enjoyed it as much as he had.

 

~*~

 

Date number four was another one held in Stiles bedroom the reason for this was because Stiles was still far too unwell to leave the house.  Their fourth date was one dedicated to laughter and the junk food Peter had brought with him. With Paige and Alec Stilinski out of the house doing their Christmas shopping, Peter was able to spend the day he would usually spend helping around the Hale House with Stiles, of course his family believed he was stuck at college a bit longer than expected.

 

Peter bunkered down under the covers and on the pillows next to Stiles the bed was barely wide enough to allow the both of them there but with Stiles settled between Peter’s legs his bony back resting against Peter’s front and Peter’s arms wrapped around Stiles when they were not feeding or carrying for Stiles in any other way, then the small bed was the perfect size for the two of them; it was only after Stiles had dozed off and Peter was forced to slip out of the house like a thief in the night that Peter realized how odd it was that spending the day curled up in bed with Stiles doing nothing but watch movie after movie, sitting there doing nothing, simply felt like heaven. 

 

Together they watched two of Peter’s favorite movies which were A Fish Called Wanda and Monthy Python and the Holy Grail, it had shocked Peter to find that Stiles had not seen either one of them and it pleased Peter when Stiles couldn’t stop laughing, they watched these two movies twice which only improved Peter’s mood and made perhaps it easier to survive the Christmas Holiday at home with his pack.  They watched several other movies that made them laugh but held no real meaning to either one of them but they served their purpose. But then came the movie French Kiss, which had been one of Stiles mothers favorite’s before her untimely death; watching the movie had Stiles curled up close to Peter and silently weeping between fits of laughter, it hurt Peter to feel the sadness roll in over the boy and he wished he could leech it all away like he had done with the fevered pains. Peter could only comfort the boy with gentle kisses and soothing hands, it was all he could do as nothing he could say would be enough to dull the emotional pain that Peter believed he could never learn to understand.

 

~*~

 

Their fifth date was one spent quietly playing various board games upstairs in Stiles bedroom, Paige was out with Derek while the deputy was at home for once to keep an eye on his son and now Peter. Peter had bought curly-fries and Reese’s Peanut Butter cups and chips, and from the frustrated groan and disapproving glare that came from Stiles it was clear Stiles did not appreciate the fact that Peter had bought the older Stilinski his own serving of junk food. But Stiles forgave Peter the moment Peter showed him the several packages of Reese’s Peanut Butter cups he had bought.

 

Peter was happy to see Stiles growing stronger each time he came to visit, even though it was clear that the boy did not appreciate every time Peter tried to feed him or insisted Stiles take another bite of a sandwich or another curly-fry, and it was clear that if Peter didn’t distract Stiles soon after the child had eaten that Stiles would have bolted into the nearest toilet and emptied his stomach.

 

But outside from the few dark clouds that drifted over them now and again, the mood was for the most part cheerful and competitive.

 

They had started off with a game of Uno, then various popular board games Peter had sneaked out of the Hale House; of course they all looked greatly worn and some pieces were missing but none of it seemed to bother Stiles who seemed just happy to have someone spend time with him. It was only when they began to play chess, which Stiles had said he had only played a few times with his mother, that Peter got another taste of the clever little mind Stiles had been blessed with.

 

For nearly an hour they sat over a chessboard. Peter could only smile in satisfaction when he was forced to realize he had truly found his match in the boy.  

 

Peter could imagine himself years from now playing chess with Stiles, both deep in thought trying to figure out their opponents next move, and both of them so very determined to beat the other. Peter imagined Stiles much older and without glasses as Stiles would have taken the bite, in his long slender hands there would be a glass with ice and liquid that would mirror the eyes Stiles had been blessed with, there would be confidence not found in the younger Stiles and even more wisdom than what Peter had seen the first time he had looked into the eyes of young Stiles Stilinski.

 

Peter imagined himself Alpha, his pack strong and respected. Peter would of course have a mate, who had done her duty and born plenty of children to prove his worth and those children would give him plenty of grandkids.

 

Peter imagined himself and Stiles as good friends, they would be each other’s confidants; Stiles would live in the Hale House with his own mate, because Peter would need him there to keep him occupied and entertained, Stiles would with the wisdom and heart he possessed become Peter’s most trusted advisors.

 

 Yes, it was an almost a pleasing thought to Peter to imagine him and Stiles growing old under the same roof, although there was something about it all that felt wrong and it wasn’t just the idea that Stiles would move on from Peter to another male; a werewolf, of course, and one Peter would choose for him as the other man in Stiles life could not be better than Peter nor more handsome than him.

 

But there was a fear in Peter that whispered that this fantasy could never become true and perhaps this unkind voice held a truth in it, perhaps Stiles would never be able to forgive Peter for using him and choosing someone else as his mate.  

 

No. Peter shook his head at the thought. He was sure Stiles would be angered, and hurt, for a while but sooner rather than later Peter would be forgiven. Peter would not allow the boy to hate him for too long, he would make Stiles understand why he couldn’t be Peter’s true mate and Stiles would see and understand it.

 

`Checkmate.´ Stiles shouted before fist-bumping, `Seriously, you called yourself the King of Chess.´ Stiles laughed loudly and the sound was so wonderful that Peter couldn’t imagine never hearing it again.

 

`I’m impressed.´ Peter said as he slipped a delicious cup of peanut butter and chocolate into the mouth that continued celebrating his success with words, `I’ll not go easy on you next-time.´

 

~*~

 

Their sixth date was one that finally didn’t involve sitting in the Stilinski house watching movies or playing chess, although Peter had enjoyed the three previous dates, but he wanted to show that he could amuse Stiles in different ways than just cuddling up on the couch or in the bed or by feeding Stiles with junk food and other little treats.

 

Peter had been going back and forth between taking Stiles out on this particular date, mostly because he wasn’t sure Stiles would appreciate it; considering he wasn’t even sure that Stiles would like to go to a concert that did not involve loud music and people jumping around, he had made a quick assumption that Stiles might appreciate the fine vibrating sounds of violins and cellos due to the music that was often created by his sister.

 

Peter had never been as nervous about taking someone out on a date before, he had never before spent hours pondering his choice and never been so close to call it off as he had been in regards to date number six.  

 

Peter had never been as uncomfortable picking Stiles up and talking to Mr. Stilinski as he was then and there; Peter told the father of two where he was planning to take his son, Peter knew he needed the go-ahead when it came to taking Stiles out of Beacon Hills, but it wasn’t the prospect of Peter taking Stiles out of town that had a reaction out of the older Stilinski. No, it was only when Peter told the man where he was taking Stiles that the man dressed for work looked at Peter like there was something dreadful it all, and the man was clearly unsure if Peter was being wise in his actions and he did say as much as he asked Peter, `Have you talked with Stiles about this little venture out of town? Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad you that you are trying to get my son back on track – but – last time he..´

 

But what was about to come out of the older Stilinski’s mouth were left unsaid as Stiles came downstairs dressed and ready to go, Peter hadn’t told Stiles what he had planned for them on the day when one year ends only to be replaced by a new one.

 

`So what’s the plan, Peter?´ Stiles asked as he came into the den, dressed as smartly as he could; that had been the only warning Peter had given Stiles about their plans for the evening.

 

When Peter told Stiles where he was taking him, all color faded from the young features while his sister looked rather uncomfortable, Peter was about to take back his the plan he had made and offer something as lame as a day at the mall; but Stiles surprised Peter by just nodding and saying, `Sounds interesting.´

 

The concert hall was packed, Peter could see the anxiousness that was however Stiles features the moment they walked in and took their seat, the boy was fidgeting in his seat until the unfamiliar music took over the hall, as each chord and key stroke did their duty Stiles anxiousness began to take its leave, what was left behind after the unhappiness Stiles had been oozing was a side of Stiles Peter had never seen before.

 

Stiles sat there captivated by the music from various videogames, as they sat there side by side in the dimly lit hall, Peter noticed how Stiles hands acted and it was rather a fascinating thing to watch.

 

During one piece one of the fine hands was more active than the other, while the other looked like it might have been holding a bow of sorts and not the sort of a bow you put on a gift or the more damaging one that hunters appeared fond of. Then there were the times when both of Stiles’ hands and fingers moved like equals, and it took a moment before Peter realized that Stiles wasn’t even aware of what his hands were doing; it was all rather fascinating, and when Stiles closed his eyes, still playing the imaginary instruments, Peter wondered if Stiles knew how to play the piano or if he knew how to truly pull the sounds of a cello or a violin out of the fine instruments. Peter ended up watching his young date more than the orchestra on the stage before him.   

 

Watching Stiles several questions rose, but when he wanted to ask them he dared not as he sensed a new emotional turmoil raging within the boy who was silent during the drive back home; when Peter drove up the driveway of the Stilinski house, he turned to look at Stiles who was fiddling with the sleeve of his jacket.

 

`It w-was nice.´ Stiles said as he unbuckled his seatbelt, voice bit weak and he kept his eyes away from Peter, gaze focused on his own hands that had for nearly three hours moved with the fine music fifteen people had played for the masses, `It was really nice. Thank you.´ then without another word Stiles is out of the car and hurrying into the house.

 

~*~

 

 Their seventh date was a disaster and the one Peter would regret most of all.  It should have been perfect. It might have worked out better, perhaps even been a success if Stiles had a bit more control off his limbs, and perhaps it could have all been avoided if Peter had just staid next to Stiles and not left him alone for only a few minutes. There were plenty of things that could have altered the outcome of their seventh date. 

 

Hell, Peter could even easily blame Derek for what happened to Stiles, because if Derek hadn’t taken Paige ice-skating, then Stiles wouldn’t have started talking about wanting to do the same; and without Stiles wanting it as badly as he seemed to, and the date held such prospect of close contact that Peter just couldn’t not give Stiles what he wanted.

 

Stiles had been so terribly excited he had barely been able to sit still while Peter had fastened the rented skates as Stiles had no clue on what to do, there was something very intimate and Peter had nearly kissed the boy then and there.

 

Stiles had been a ball of nervous excitement the moment the two went on the ice, and much like Peter had imagined it Stiles was unable to move an inch without his support or else the boy would have fallen, and Peter took this as a gift from the Gods and held tightly to his young companion. Peter had made sure that Stiles had felt safe and secure as they moved around the ice.

 

It would have all remained perfect, ended perfectly with the two of them leaving the ice and handing their rented skates back before heading off to get some hot-chocolate and perhaps finally reaching a first-kiss, if not for the sudden ringing that came from Peter’s jacket.

 

Peter ignored it until the persistent ringing stopped, but almost as soon as it ended it began again, this continued until Stiles had enough of Peter ignoring it.

 

`You should answer it.´ Stiles said, still smiling happily, cheeks and the adorable up-turn nose bright-red. Peter smiled right back at Stiles before taking out his phone.

 

Now, Peter could have been a gentleman and ignored Cynthia’s call, but she was one of the young ladies Peter had been chasing around campus for weeks and the thought of not achieving his goal had him heading off of the ice and as far away from Stiles as possible; leaving Stiles to survive on his own, while Peter went on to charm another willing body to his bed.

 

While Peter was talking with Cynthia, laughing and flirting, making promises, unaware that time passed and how his young date was growing tiered on his feet and growing slightly anxious. Peter made suggestions, and promised to take Cynthia out on lovely dates while Stiles made the decision to try and move on his own.

 

It would only be much later that Peter would hear from the mouth of the boy what had made Stiles want to get off of the ice, it was the sight of four kids from Beacon Hills High School that were apparently very fond of pushing Stiles around.

 

Peter was complimenting and praising Cynthia on her beauty and a wit that was of no real value, when Stiles was hit from the side by one of the four guys Stiles didn’t have a chance and was knocked off his feet; and while Stiles it the ice the boys skated off while laughing loudly.

 

It was the sound of bone breaking and the loud cry that came from Stiles drew Peter’s attention, Peter felt his heart sink when he realized that Stiles had got hurt. He told Cynthia he had to go; promising he would pick her up on Monday for their date and agreeing to have both breakfast and lunch with her on Monday, he did this while hurrying back towards the rink.  

 

Peter hurried towards Stiles who was cradling his arm while several strangers were supporting him, helping him across the ice; Peter did not appreciate the attention Stiles was receiving from others, and it was enough to fuel the foul mood that had jumped up the moment his guilt had flared, and seeing others touch Stiles when he could barely do so without Stiles growing uncomfortable just made Peter more upset with Stiles who had to be stupid and get hurt.

 

Peter might have been able to salvage the date if he had controlled his own emotions, but Peter couldn’t bring himself to control his emotions as he was forced to call Mr. Stilinski; having to tell the man what had happened, of course leaving out the fact that he and Stiles were on a date and that Peter had gone off to secure a night of passion with another person while leaving Stiles alone on the ice.

 

While they waited for Mr. Stilinski to come and take Stiles to the hospital, Peter couldn’t help but glared at Stiles; Peter wasn’t really angry with Stiles, but he did however hate the fact that the child was a fragile human.

 

And when Stiles dared to ask why Peter was so quiet and angry, there were still tears in his beautiful brown eyes, Peter snapped at Stiles, `Because I’m trying not to say something like “You couldn’t do one simple thing and wait for me to come back, before doing something so stupid as trying to move on your own across a surface that you wished to try out but are incapable of mastering” or perhaps something like “I wish you would stop being such a petulant child and just grow-the-fuck-up already so I wouldn’t have to hold your fucking hand all the time.”´

 

Stiles teary eyes grew wide at first, then as his lower-lip that one lip Peter wanted to nibble on began to tremble; the eyes closed and the boy stood up from where he had been sitting cradling is injured arm. Stiles took a few steps away from Peter who growled at him furiously, `Where the Hell are you going now? ´

 

`O-o-outside.´ Stiles informed, voice so full of hurt that it was like an arrow going through Peter’s heart, `I-I’m gonna w-wait f-f-for m-m-my d-d-dad o-ou-outside.´

 

Stiles hadn’t stuttered in what felt like ages. But there it was back loud and clear as were the smell of self-loathing and misery. Peter made a move to touch Stiles, to bring him back to where he had been seated, but before he could a familiar yet unfamiliarly alarmed voice called out over the area, `Where’s my son?´

 

`Daddy.´  Stiles cried as he walked up to his father, leaving Peter standing there with his arm reached out, and feeling like he had been drinking some horrible concoction that sucked out your heart and soul in one sweep and stuffed the emptiness with acid.

 

Alec Stilinski gave Peter a glare that kept Peter from approaching the father and his injured son. Peter could only stand and watch as the two Stilinski’s waked away, Stiles sobbing against his father who probably wished he could have carried his son like he had surely done when Stiles had been smaller and younger and by the heavens Peter wished he could have done that too and he wished so hard that he could turn-back time so he could have kept Stiles from hurting himself.

 

~*~

 

It took Peter weeks, weeks of begging and stalking Stiles for the young man to finally give Peter the time of day and frankly Peter was surprised when Stiles gave him another chance to prove himself. And after being separated from Stiles for nearly three weeks, granted during these weeks Peter had been fucking Cynthia and a few other people on campus.

 

It took Peter a great deal of effort to get Stiles to even see him in a local café and that didn’t happen without Derek being there at a table right next to theirs. Derek was there ready to jump in and save Stiles from Peter the moment it all became too much for Stiles, and it made Peter wish he could just shred his nephew to tiny little pieces, but if having Derek there gave Peter access to Stiles then so be it.

 

Peter apologized for the hundredth time, or if you really wanted to be presice on the number of apologize Peter had showered Stiles it was hundred and nineteen apologize.

 

But regardless of how many “I’m sorry” and “please forgive me” had been dropped on Stiles, the boy kept his answers short and kept his eyes from ever meeting Peter’s; but that was not the worst part of it all, no, what made Pete’s stomach lurch was the fact that the weight Stiles had gained the pounds that had finally made the boy look almost healthy had dropped alarmingly fast and there was the frightful but delicious scent of tissue mending beneath layers of fabric. Where Stiles had once allowed some bodily contact, a touch on the shoulder or a brush of hands, or simply sitting next to each other there was none this time; not even when Peter dragged Stiles to the movies after their short stay at the café where Stiles refused to have anything but a cup of black coffee even after Peter had bought him a large piece of delicious chocolate cake, did Stiles sit next to Peter.

 

Peter was forced to sit next to his nephew, who somehow managed to feed Stiles some of the popcorn Peter had bought them, and watch the newest movie about zombies or other such nonsense; he could hear Derek coax out answers to ridiculous questions out of the boy until he finally seemed to relax, it truly angered Peter to find Stiles more willing to hang around Derek who had a history of abusing Stiles than with him who had just shouted at the boy. Peter barely watched the movie as he watched Stiles grow more comfortable with Derek, here and there Stiles would turn to laugh at something Derek had said and when something obviously frightened the boy he would latch on to Derek’s arm; it was all so very wrong, this was supposed to be their date and not Stiles and Derek’s date.

 

By the time the movie ended Peter displeased with the date, and furious with Derek who continued to separate him from Stiles, well he did so until Peter gently reminded Derek of the small threat of telling his mother about all the bruises and cuts Derek had caused Stiles. Of course Derek tried to intimidate Peter with a feeble threat about telling their Alpha about Peter hanging around a barely fourteen-year old kid with a butt-load of issues; but Peter wasn’t intimidated by the threat, considering how nothing had happened between Stiles and Peter, of course Talia might find it odd that Peter had befriended a human boy but then again Peter was sure that once Talia got to know Stiles she would understand the fascination with him.

 

Derek had growled that if Peter said or did anything to hurt or upset Stiles, then Derek then he would claw Peter’s intestines out of his body.

 

The moment Derek informed Stiles he wasn’t going to join him and Peter at the small pizzeria that was rumored to have the best pizzas in town, Stiles went completely rigid and began to almost beg for him to stay; hearing Stiles asking Derek to stay, to see how Stiles reached out to grasp at the sleeve of Derek’s jacket trying to stop Peter’s nephew from leaving, it made Peter’s temper flare out angry glares directed at Derek. But Derek left Stiles, who was extremely uncomfortable being alone with Peter.

 

Stiles barely spoke and barely touched the pizza which had all of Stiles favorite toppings, after dinner Peter took Stiles out for a walk in the park nearby they walked in silence for a while during which Stiles made sure to keep Peter at an arms-length away from himself and his still broken arm; the cast was like a horrible reminder of what Peter had done or not done, Derek had drawn a few things on it as had a few other people and did that not just rub Peter the wrong way.

 

`Wh-wh-why?´ Stiles stuttered and stopped walking, cradling his arm like it was a child in need of comfort.

 

Peter paused and turned to look at the boy who looked so small, a boy who still refused to look him in the eye as he spoke, `Wh-why a-are y-you doing th-this?´

 

Peter made his way as close as the boy allowed him, which wasn’t much, and he reached out to touch the pale face but once more Stiles pulled away and with a frustrated sigh Peter began to speak, `Christ, Stiles, I would _never_ hurt you.´

 

`Shut up.´ Stiles snaps and finally the boy looks at Peter straight in the eye and oh the hurt the werewolf sees in the eyes almost has Peter turning his gaze away.

 

`Fine. You don’t hit me. You don’t push me.´ Stiles says with a hard and cold voice, `but you still hurt me. You still hurt me Peter!´

 

Peter knows it’s the truth. He has hurt Stiles more than once. Peter doesn’t see it not when it happens, it only dawns on him when he sees the hurt in Stiles eyes or when Stiles points it out; Peter hates knowing that he has hurt Stiles just like so many others have done since the boy came to Beacon Hills.

 

`I know.´ Peter says as Stiles goes quiet, there are tears in the beautiful eyes.

 

`I know. I know that I’ve hurt you.´ Peter says as he runs his fingers through his hair before pulling at it slightly, `And you shouldn’t have to endure that shit from me. And there is nothing, nothing, I can say to make it better.´ Peter breathes out his frustration and just at the boy, pleading for Stiles to understand that Peter was sorry and that he needed Stiles to be reasonable.

 

Still Stiles stays away, tears in his eyes as he mumbles out, `I th-thought th-that y-you were dif-different.´

 

Peter closes the distance between them, hands brushing away the tears that fell from his beautiful boy, Stiles looked absolutely shocked by Peter being right there.

 

`I am. I am different.´ Peter says with a voice unwavering, `I love you. I love you Stiles,´ Peter knows it isn’t an honorable thing to say, and he finds it strange that he questions his honor at a moment when he should only care about getting what he wanted. But then again Stiles made Peter act strangely at the best of times. `I love you, you brilliant boy.´

 

`Stop. Please. Stop.´ Stiles whispered, shaking his head.

 

`I love you and I’m so sorry for hurting you.´ Peter says and for the first time he almost believes it to be true.

 

`I know this is all too much, too soon, and I know you can’t trust me right now.´ Peter says as he kisses the forehead that feels so cold beneath his lips, `but I do love you Stiles.´

 

With eyes wide and his lower lip trembling Stiles asks Peter to take him home, and Peter agrees because he can sense the exhaustion the child is experiencing rolling off of him.

 

~*~

 

Seeing Stiles at one of their Sunday dinners had nearly Peter losing his composure and pretense of barely knowing the boy, he was however pleased to find that Stiles barely reacted to his unexpected arrival at the house where he had been born and raised in; as he talked with his sister Peter learned that this was not the first time Stiles and Paige were having dinner with the Hale’s, he also found something a bit worrying it seemed Stiles had managed to charm more than one member of his family; especially his little niece Cora was absolutely besotted with Stiles, and Peter could hardly blame her.

 

Peter watched Stiles interact with the rest of his family, he watched how Cora demanded Stiles attention at every turn; he watched as Alpha’s mate wrapped his arm over Stiles shoulder and he listened in on every conversation Stiles had with various members of his family; one could easily have mistaken Stiles for a member of their pack, and Peter almost asked Talia if she was planning on offering the bite to Stiles.

 

An hour after Paige and Stiles had headed home, an hour after Derek had gone off to the movies with Paige was when Peter found himself outside the Stilinski house no longer able to wait for the boy to contact him; the stunned expression on Stiles face as he opened the front-door was enough to make Peter smile at him and tell him to grab his things because they were going out.

 

`I haven’t forgiven you, yet.´ Stiles said as he slipped into Peter’s car.

 

`Yet.´ Peter agreed with a wide smile.

 

Peter drove Stiles out to his favorite spot in the preserve, and laid down a blanket on the cold ground while wrapping another one around the boy before pulling him down to lay on the ground so they could see the stars that shined so brightly against the sky above them. They laid there silent until Stiles finally broke it, which had Peter smiling, `So, I take it you were waiting for me to crack, right?´

 

`Yes.´ Peter admitted while taking the colder hand in his, squeezing it lightly before speaking again, `I’ve missed you.´

 

`Peter, I don’t know about you.´ Stiles admitted and turned to look at Peter who was more than happy to look at boy splayed on the cold ground next to him, it felt like such a wonderful thing and he wished they could stay there for at least a few days.

 

`But, I’ve – I’ve missed you too.´ Peter couldn’t stop smiling at those words, and he honestly had no idea why they made him so happy, why they made him feel like he was on top of the world.

 

`Thank God.´ Peter laughed before saying, `I really thought you had forgotten all about me.´

 

`Almost did.´ Stiles answered, the teasing little lie had Peter laughing and before he know it he reached out and kissed Stiles as gently as possible, and for a second he thought he had pushed Stiles to far; that the boy would have another melt-down about not being gay, but instead Stiles just smirked up at Peter and asked, `So we’ve had our first-date, our first-fight and now our first-kiss. I think I’m falling for you Mr. Hale.´

 

`I hope you do.´ Peter admitted before stealing away another kiss.

 

 


	14. The End Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The time had come. Peter wished the moment, the time, hadn’t been forced to come by his mistake alone. He had to take what he wished now, for within weeks his darling boy would hate him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING! This chapter contains sexual acts between a grown-ass male and a barely fourteen-year old boy. If it offends or sensibilities and will have you biting my head off (although today being headless would be an improvement) then please skip this chapter but only once you have read the scene played out in a small café between one Peter Hale and a woman by the name of Martha. 
> 
> My dove expected me to make the sexual act between Peter and Stiles of the none-consensual and rough by nature, and was rather stunned that I had chosen a different path. She was pleased however that I did take one of the wishes she had set for Stiles’ first-time; she had wished that Stiles “first” would be with Peter and while Stiles was still underage, the rest has been of my own free-will. SO blame her for the underage part and me for the rest. That is all.

 

 

 Honestly, Peter had nothing against Martha, she was clever but she was also dull; she could speak wisely about the things she knew about and was interested of, but there was no point in conversing with her about subjects she held no interest in, and when it came to the wit of tongue and a sense of humor; well she possessed neither. Martha could not make a joke to save her life and she had no understanding of sarcasm, and sass was entirely a concept she could not grasp; it was therefor her incredible grace and beauty that had made her one of Peter’s frequent bedmates. And with Martha being a werewolf from birth both she and Peter could be at ease in each other presence, not to mention there was no need for gentleness once in the privacy of either dorm-rooms, which of course helped keep Peter interested in the not so interesting female who was but one year from graduating.

 

Still with Martha Wallis being a frequent visitor in Peter’s bed, the werewolf found it strange that _she_ had called him and asked for a moment of his time. A month ago her calling and summoning him would not have been all that odd, but since she had a month ago informed his she refused to continue a relationship based purely on sex the call indeed was a strange one.   

 

Peter sighed as he sat down at one of the tables by the bay window of the small café that was off of the campus, it had been Martha’s choice to have their short encounter there; if Peter had his way he would already be on the road to Beacon Hills, he had plans with Stiles that he did not wish to miss.

 

The double espresso lacked something, the smell alone told him this long before he took a tentative taste of the hot liquid; it might have been the beans that were off, or perhaps the water had been stale or the machine that had brewed the liquid hadn’t been cleaned in days, what the reason maybe one thing was clear; Peter would not be finishing his warm drink. He watched through the slightly stained window as Martha hurried across the street, she looked anxious and her hand rested against her stomach as if she was unwell or out of sorts.

 

Martha entered the small coffee shop and walked straight over to where Peter was sitting, like him she was taking in his scent like the good werewolf she was; and so Peter was not insulted by the glare she gave him after she picked up on the various scents of others on him, unlike Peter Martha had expected for the two of them to become mated once both had finished university, however Peter had no such plans unless he became the Alpha of the Hale pack.  

 

`I’m pregnant.´ Martha said sharply, unhappily. Her nerves were showing by the slight tick that made her eyebrow twitch, Peter hated that tick of hers almost as much as he hated the feeling her words gave him.

 

Peter’s heart sank, he felt sick like he stomach was full of poison and the blood ran cold in his veins, he knew she could sense his unhappiness and he didn’t care to hide it as he responded with a short, `Oh.´

 

`My Alpha expects you to do the right thing.´ Martha states without giving Peter a moment to adjust to the bomb she had just dropped in his lap. She placed her hands on the tabletop, and all Peter can suddenly think if about all the differences between her hands and those of Stiles’; hers may have been smaller but Stiles’ had a strange elegance to them, and where her hand often felt heavy and strong in his Stiles’ had been light and gentle.

 

Peter nods at the information given, he understands that Martha’s cousin would want the matter turned into an honorable thing, and having an alliance with such a fine pack as the Hale’s would make Wallis pack a few steps higher on the ranks of packs in the great United States.

 

`My Alpha is planning an audience with your Alpha,´ Martha says as she lays her hands over the still unnoticeable bump underneath her fine dress; Wallis’ had fortune, yes, but they lacked the fine history and breeding as the Hale’s held.

 

`You are here to inform me of the end of my freedom.´ Peter says as he takes another sip of his coffee, his words make the werewolf across the table frown, but she nods none the less before adding, `I will give you a week. A week to end all your small relationships, after that any acts of intercourse or acts of fondness that are not directed towards your mate will be considered as an act against me and my pack.´

 

Peter’s jaw tightens and his claws are pushing through, he is not pleased to be tied and bound but knows this is how it must be due to the new life Martha is carrying; he will not have a bastard child running around and being raised by the Wallis’.

 

`Do you understand, Peter? ´ Martha asks voice little less harsh than before. Peter nods and Martha sighs as she rises to her feet.

 

`I had hoped we’d come to this on our own, ´ Martha admits quietly, `I had hoped you would get this need to sleep with everyone and their mother out of your system before we would mate.´ Peter looks up at the woman who was his senior by a few good years, there is a look of sadness in her grey eyes as she speaks to him, `I am sorry about this, Peter.´

 

Peter doubts she is as grieved by their situation as much as Peter is. Martha has always wished this while Peter had never wanted her as his mate; he had always feared she would bore him to death.

 

Peter will of course carry the burden he has created with as much honor as possible.

 

And because of her fine qualities Martha has allowed him a week of freedom before he must give up all others for her and their unborn child.

 

`Thank you.´ Peter says, and she gives him a sorrowful smile before walking away.

 

As soon as Martha is out of earshot and out of sight, Peter hurries out of his seat and runs to his car where he continues to have a small meltdown; screaming and beating the steering wheel until it bent in several places.

 

He does not want this. Never has. This is all so unfair. Peter hates Martha, he loathes himself, and Peter regrets the child he has created.

 

**~*~**

 

Stiles isn’t sure how it had come to this, him on his back on a fine bed in a rather expensive Hotel Room on a Saturday night, with Peter Hale on top of him both of them undressed and completely naked. Stiles knows he shouldn’t be there, that he is far too young for what is about to happen; but he wants this, he wants to make Peter love him and keep him. Stiles can’t imagine a life where there were no weekends spent with Peter; if giving his body to Peter meant he could keep the werewolf.

 

Stiles had been surprised when Peter had whispered into his ear after the modernized version William Shakespeare's Othello ended, but still the whispered words were clear even through the loud appreciative applauds going on around them, `I’ve got us a hotel room, Stiles, and I would like to spend this night with you. I need to spend it with you.´

 

It was all so surreal and wonderful. He was so very afraid and incredibly excited all at once.  

 

Stiles was rather surprised by how gentle Peter was with him, how each touch was barely a touch, Peter treated him like he was made out of glass. Everything about Peter until now had never made Stiles imagine Peter to be a gentle lover, their kisses had grown more demanding and dominating once Stiles stopped protesting each touch and kiss Peter blessed him with seemed to be intended to never leave Stiles body.

 

They laid there on a bed, in a hotel room just outside the town where Peter and Stiles’ own mother had been born and raised in, in a room lit with candles and on sheets that felt expensive and wonderful against Stiles skin that left the young teenager to struggled against the need to just rub his entire body against the fine fabrics; the familiar dominant and demanding Peter was gone and had been replaced by someone who caressed Stiles body like it was something precious and fragile it was as if Peter could never imagine anything more wonderful or divine than Stiles Stilinski and wasn’t that just enough to make Stiles blush bright-red.

 

This new Peter is unfamiliar to him and Stiles misses the one he has grown to love,  the one who does not find him abomination but something desirable. Never had Stiles though he would yearn for the roughness Peter had displayed during their short make-out sessions in the backseat of Peter’s car or on Stiles bed when Paige and his father were out. Stiles had never imagined he would miss the possessive nature in each touch and kiss that had been such a vital part of Peter’s character.

 

As he laid there naked and slightly flushed, with Peter licking and kissing the tracks of each little cut Stiles had created against the pale skin of his thighs, Stiles moaned out with slight frustration, `I won’t break, you know.´

 

Peter looked up at Stiles, who was trembling with pent-up energy and want, and Stiles is taken aback by the dark eyes staring up at him and before Stiles has a chance to speak Peter has moved up his body and with pupils dilated so wide that Stiles can barely see anything but black Stiles realizes that he has made Peter like this; that he has somehow driven Peter into a lustful frenzy, and he just knows that Peter is holding back for Stiles’ safety and that makes the boy love werewolf even more.  

 

One of Peter’s hands comes up to cup Stiles jaw, while the other comes to rest on the hip that carries a few scars of its own. There is no denying the truth, the both of them were hard and as Peter leans down to kiss Stiles in such away one might have thought Stiles lips were the sweet nectar of the Gods.

 

 Stiles is by now aching with want and desire and each time Peter moves even the slightest Stiles shivers and whimpers, and each brush of Peters longer and thicker member against Stiles own smaller one gets Stiles closer to coming like the inexperienced virgin he was.

 

`I know.´ Peter says softly and lightly presses a kiss against Stiles lips, while his hand slips towards the aching cock of the young boy beneath him, the warmth of the hand that wraps around one of the few parts no one but Stiles had touched and it is all enough to make Stiles arch off of the bed while crying out in shock and want, there are tears forming and as soon as one escapes Peter licks it away.  

 

Stiles had never imagined his first-time to play out with another male, and he had never imagined losing his virginity before the age of sixteen; Stiles had always imagined that he would be in college when he would finally come across a girl who could look past all the awkwardness that made him who he was, he imagined several dates before either one of them would be comfortable enough to sleep together.

 

When Stiles starts to whimper, Peter covers his mouth with his own and Stiles almost curses at him when he feels Peter grinning at Stiles desperation; the larger hand, the unfamiliar hand moves painfully slow and Stiles wants more of something he doesn’t fully understand.

 

Stiles knows Peter is enjoying the want Stiles is displaying, the power he has over Stiles, but the older male keeps everything gentle and slow and it is driving Stiles crazy.

 

Peter had warned Stiles as they drove to the hotel that he wanted to drive Stiles completely mad, to ruin him, to ruin any other man for Stiles; and being the perhaps naïve person Stiles was he wanted it all as much as Peter did.

 

Stiles wanted to be Peter’s in every possible way.

 

Peter began to mouth and suck on every single mole and imperfection that Stiles had, kissing the dark little spots various people including Peter’s nephew had called drops of shit or mud. And although Peter had more than once informed Stiles of how he had never before been a fan of such blemishes that covered Stiles body, he now worshiped each mark with reverence as if they were perfect and wonderful.

 

The werewolf continued to bring Stiles closer and closer to climaxing while covering the pale skin in red blotches and more than a few purple hickeys which Peter and Stiles both knew Stiles would be spending days touching and admiring; both knew those marks would help Stiles find his release later without Peter’s help and presence.

 

When Peter would sucked or bit Stiles just a little bit too hard Stiles would sob out and beg Peter to stop, but Stiles really didn’t want it to end and Peter could hear the lie and it would push Peter to suck and bite a little bit harder just to teach Stiles a lesson as he hated Stiles lying to him.

 

Stiles could feel the tears start to fall as Peter journeyed over his body, taking his sweet time before finally shocking Stiles by wrapping his mouth around the youthful length that Stiles had barely learned to touch in ways that got him off. It was all such a shock that it was enough to have Stiles to open his mouth in a silent scream while fisting the sheets, and it doesn’t take much to push Stiles right over the edge and Stiles can’t form words to warn Peter and when the expected end comes Stiles cries out Peter’s name and for a few minutes Stiles can’t help but wonder if he will die from the intensity of it all; and if Stiles hadn’t been so caught up in it all he might have felt Peter smiling even with Stiles little dick still in his mouth.

 

Stiles can barely comprehend what just happened, he can barely stand the kitten licks Peter gives his member that is ever so slightly sore to the touch now and I makes Stiles whimper and yet Stiles does not try and get away for he trusts Peter to know what to do to make it all better; he trusts Peter to help his racing heart to calm down, to help him breathe again.

 

`Peter.´ Stiles cries as Peter kisses his way back up Stiles torso , and when Peter looks up at Stiles there is a predatory grin there that makes Stiles wonder whether or not he will survive this night with the werewolf.

 

`What’s wrong, Pet? ´ Peter asks with an air of bemusement in his voice and he starts to lick away the tears that slip through.

 

`Peter, please.´  Stiles whimpers as Peter’s hand runs down Stiles stomach, and all the way back down to the limp cock that is still moist from Peter’s attention.

 

Stiles gasps as the firm hand returns to where it had already been once that night. Peter hums with satisfaction as Stiles moans at the almost painful contact which ends almost as soon as it has begun, and the sudden lack of contact has Stiles crying and begging for Peter to touch him. And when Peter moves to the foot of the bed, so not to touch Stiles, all Stiles can do is cry for Peter to come back and sit up in a desperate attempt to reach for the werewolf.

 

Giving Stiles and almost sympathetic look Peter backs further away from the bed, watching until Stiles is a bit more focused and less desperate even if it had been obvious that Peter had enjoyed the power he had over Stiles. And with Stiles full attention Peter gives Stiles his last chance to leave, to perhaps give Stiles a chance to leave with some of his innocence intact.

 

`Stiles, you need to leave now if you’re not ready.´ Stiles sits up a little bit straighter at the words, and he can even in his desperate want appreciate the option Peter is giving him; even if it feels a little more like a show than anything else.

 

`I need you to leave now if you’re not 100% sure about,´ there is a short pause and Stiles can tell how Peter is measuring and trying out the word that soon falls from his lips, `about sleeping with me, because once we start I won’t be able to stop.´

 

Even if Peter is giving him an out, giving Stiles the permission to gather up his things and walk out of the hotel room without judgment, Stiles knows Peter enough to know that the older male doesn’t want him to take the exit. Stiles can’t help but wonder if Peter would even let him leave if he did chose to do so, but in the long run it doesn’t matter if Peter would allow Stiles to leave because Stiles wants nothing more than to give Peter what little he has to offer.

 

`I – I want it. Peter. P-pl-please, I want you. ´ Stiles says with a surprising amount of desperation in his voice while crawling towards the end of the bed, desperate to break at least a little of the distance between them.

 

`Please, Peter, I n-need you. I want you. I want to be good for you.´ Stiles is well-aware how pathetic he must sound and look then and there, but he doesn’t care because he is hard yet again and he doubts he could really make it go away with his own unsure and feeble touches; he needs Peter’s sure hands on him, to feel Peter as a part of his stupid body.

 

~*~

 

Peter curses himself; he curses Stiles, because there could have been a chance that he could have at least saved some part of his soul. But Stiles’ voice and the desperate words that escape that pretty little mouth,  and the look in Stiles almost whiskey colored eyes are all it takes to break the attempt Peter had made in being someone who wasn’t a sociopath or a simply cruel-bastard. Stiles made it impossible for Peter not to take what he wanted, and make it so that he felt no guilt or shame over it.

 

Peter reaches for the lube that had been resting on the foot of the bed even before Stiles had entered the room, he watches Stiles watching him and smiles happily as Stiles obediently moves further up the bed to give Peter room tomove and work.

 

`Lay down.´ Peter says as he situates himself between the legs that are so pale and fragile compared to his own, Peter gives the markings on the thighs licks and kisses; they are like warning sings telling him to leave the boy alone before he truly ruins and breaks him, but Peter ignores the Stop signs littered over pale skin and moves to maneuvers Stiles legs up on his shoulders before lubing up his fingers. He feels the younger body tremble and grow tight from nerves even after the long talk in the car the two had about what was going to happen once they reached the hotel.

 

`So beautiful.´ Peter murmurs as he adjusts himself and Stiles so that the lovely little hole comes to sight, he is almost bending the boy in half and Peter can feel the discomfort of the position causes Stiles, but he wants and needs to see the lock on Stiles’ face when he breaks through the one area even Stiles hadn’t yet dared to explore. And Peter wants to see the moment when he slips inside the much smaller body, he needs to see the moment he becomes the first to ever take Stiles entirely; he needs to see the moment their bodies are joined.

 

Even though this is not the first-time he has shared his pleasure with another, nor is this the first-time he steals away the virginity of another, it is still the first-time Peter wants to experience everything the moment has to offer; it is the very first-time he actually cares about the person beneath him, and it gives the act a whole new importance.

 

Peter leans over the body, making the boy whimper as the muscles of the thin legs and thighs are strained in order to give Peter access to Stiles pretty little mouth. Peter kisses gently as first and then with a bit more ferocity to take the young mind off of what Peter’s lubed-up finger is about to do. And if his hunger is also inspired by the wonderful way Stiles lips feel against his own, or how the young mouth follows Peter’s with a need Peter has never experienced in another companion before, well who will know?

 

As Peter’s finger slips through the tight rim, breaking through the first attempt of resistance, Stiles cries out into Peter’s mouth and Peter can’t help the groan that escapes from him because it is all too much and not enough.

 

The heath that surrounds Peter’s finger makes the werewolf want more, the tightness around the digit is almost like a taunting promise; and Peter can barely wait to shove his cock into that lovely little hole; but the smell of tears and the sounds of discomfort reminds Peter to play nice, and so he takes his time easing the virgin hole open for him, adding fingers only when he is sure it is safe to do so.

 

`Oh.God.´ Stiles gasps as Peter eases off of Stiles body, and moves to situate himself between the legs that slip off of his shoulders like they had been strapped with weights. The delicious whimper that escapes the boy on the bed has Peter’s dick in full-attention; the sound comes out of parted lips as Peter pulls out his fingers.

 

He searches for that one little spot that will have the boy seeing stars behind his closed eyes, and when he finds it the expression on the young face is so beautiful that Peter wished for a moment he had captured it for prosperity, and there was no denying that finding Stiles looking up at him like Peter was the all mighty god did wonders to his ego.

 

`Turn over.´ Peter says voice raw with want. Peter had demanded another climax from the boy, from just fingering Stiles and wasn’t that just the most wonderful promise.

 

An unhappy sound escapes the boy on the bed before he moves, the flat stomach coated with Stiles release, the younger body barely able to follow the order as the usually so sharp mind has turned-off for the moment. The knowledge that he is the reason for the shut-down of Stiles brilliant mind, has Peter feeling like he truly is God.

 

Like a bitch in heath Stiles presents himself to Peter; face down and ass perched up and it is almost enough to make Peter salivating. And Peter can’t help himself as he moves to spread the almost white cheeks apart to display the already slightly used hole, and if that wasn’t enough to drive Peter mad the fact that the barely a teenage boy moves to spread his legs that bit wider just so that Peter got a better view of what he had done. And for a moment Peter just admires what he has done, and if Peter is God then Stiles was perfection.

 

Peter bends down, ignoring his plan of fingering the boy a while longer, and licks at the red and raw area around the hole that has been fluttering desperately from the moment Peter had gazed down on it. Stiles lets out a muffled cry into the sheets while his hands are clawing at the mattress, Peter hums with delight when his mouth covers the precious hole and Stiles screams out a loud and desperate, `Peter.´

 

Peter ignores the sense of urgency he’d felt briefly as he licks and kisses the area with the same hunger he had felt towards the beautiful mouth, he keeps an ear on the desperate sounds of whimpers and whines as well as sobs and gasps; he plays with the boy like the toy Peter convinces himself Stiles is.

 

He fucks the boy with his tongue until he feels his tongue ache and only then does he add his fingers to the mix, the pretty little hole becomes within minutes absolutely used in appearance, the older male kneads at the balls which is all it takes to make the boy come all over the pretty white linens while making a strange strangled sound which Peter had never before heard before and the sound is almost enough to make him come from just that and the sight Stiles is.

 

`Think you can take me, little one? ´ Peter asks, not really carrying if Stiles says no because Peter can’t wait any longer. He grabs the bottle of lube, and his dick hardens even more at the whimper, `y-y-yes.´ Peter leans down to kiss two mountains of pale flesh.

 

Peter lines himself up behind the trembling boy who had for but a momentcollapsed on the bed, but gotten back up on his elbows and knees in order to be the good boy Peter had imagined Stiles to be. Peter peppered the pale skin dotted with beautiful dark marks nature had blessed the body beneath him with, and these beautiful natural marks were accompanied by those Peter had spent nearly an hour creating.

 

`P-Peter.´ Stiles pleaded while pushing his rear-end closer to Peter, it made Peter smirk like the all might warrior who had concurred an army far greater than his. And the debauched appearance of Stiles as the boy turns his head and peers over well-marked shoulder is simply something Peter would wish to demand never to be shared with anyone but him.

 

`Hmm? ´ Peter enjoyed the way the young boy shivered and trembled beneath him, and he simply loved the heady scent of arousal and desperation that exploded from the body that shiver violently when he responded to the boy.

 

`St-stop being so cr-cruel.´ Stiles words had Peter’s smirk falter, because Peter _was_ cruel and Stiles would truly learn this soon enough and the thought caused Peter to feel sick to his stomach and for but a moment he thought about end it; to gather all his things and just walk out the door, leaving a confused and later hurt boy to deal with getting home on his own, because that would be the kind thing to do.  

 

The light hand that was much smaller than Peter’s own sneaked into his and a worried voice trembled out, `Peter y-you don’t have t-too. W-we can st-stop if you d-don’t want too.´

 

Peter is shocked by the suggestion that he would want anything but this. He glances over at younger boy who looked at Peter with such concern, although it was clear the evil voices in Stiles head were back whispering such things that would make the boy think he was unwanted, Peter can almost hear the cruel voices telling the boy how no one would ever want a little faggot like him. It was strange to find this boy that Peter was planning to defile and use to his own pleasure – although Peter hoped Stiles would be pleasured as well – was more concerned for Peter’s wellbeing than his own and was that a punch in the gut.  

 

Peter leans down to capture the bow-shaped mouth and kisses all theworry out of the young boy whose confidence had yet to be born. While kissing, searching and embracing the cavity that was the young mouth that had yet to be tainted by years and bad habits, the werewolf forced his worries for the boy out of his mind for this was a night of pleasure and not of worry.

 

Peter kisses the boy with all his soul and might in an attempt to distract the boy as he slowly pushed himself inside the body. Even after all the time Peter had spent on the boy, there was still some resistance and Peter used his blessed gift to eradicate most of the discomfort that had could have caused lithe figure cry out in pain.

 

With his cock fully trapped inside the young body, the tight grip making it hard for Peter to keep his head as all he wanted to do was pull out and slam right back in over and over again; but he had made himself a promise, and assured Stiles, that he Peter Hale would not hurt the younger boy. Peter waited as patiently as possible for the body accept the intrusion, he waited until Stiles finally gave him the right to move; it came in the form of a short nod and the soft whisper, `Peter. Please.´

 

Peter started off slow and gentle, although all he wanted to do was chase his own release; holding back the need to ram his dick into the body with speed and power that was beyond a normal man, to fuck the boy until his toes curled up with pleasure and just release his seed into the no longer so innocent boy.

 

However much Peter wanted to do what pleased him and him alone, he knew he had to make Stiles’ first experience a pleasurable one not just because is egotistic nature desired to leave Stiles unable to ever find another lover as great as Peter but also because he didn’t want to suffer another set of guilt that might settle in him once everything was over.

 

This could not be left as just another roll-around in the sheets for either one of them.

 

The sounds that slowly started to trickle out of the boy were delicious and sinful, enough so that Peter nearly came from that alone; the werewolf had to think about such things as worms and the one time he had walked in on his parents having sex, the memory of seeing his father fucking into his mother was enough to cool Peter down for a moment.

 

When Stiles finally made a strangled cry that once simple cry that had Peter almost losing control,  Peter felt the body tighten around his member so tightly that the werewolf nearly came from it. With Stiles taken care of Peter began to chase his own pleasure, slamming into the boy with the speed and want he had denied himself; Stiles grunted but made no complaints, then again he looked like he was about to lose consciousness.

 

The sound of flesh against flesh, the sound of the matrass beneath them and the little noises Peter forced out of Stiles, was enough to push Peter over the edge and because Stiles was barely conscious Peter dared to break the promise he had made to Stiles; he released his load inside of the boy with a low growl while biting down on the bare shoulder.

 

With great care Peter maneuvered Stiles in a far more comfortable position, he wrapped his arms around the thin frame that now carried Peter scent with such potency that no werewolf could mistake to whom the boy belonged too; the thought of Stiles smelling like him for weeks and weeks had Peter growing hard once more, but when the reality of his situation set in the hardness faltered.

 

Peter did not give in to the want of sleep, instead he laid there beside the boy admiring his labor; Peter admired the boy who was so beautiful used and marked up.

 

Wishing to cherish this moment for perhaps an eternity Peter decided to snap a few pictures of _his_ used boy, Peter would keep each image like a small treasure for only his eyes to see. Peter took pictures of the marked skin and the sleeping face that had a pair of swollen lips ajar as if waiting or simply begging for Peter to slip his cock right in there.

 

Peter wished Martha had given him at least a bit more time so he could have had his cock sucked by the boy, because surely such a mouth was made to suck cock?

 

But Martha had made it clear he had no such time. Peter turned the boy and moved him so that he could get a picture of the hole that appeared so raw and used now; Peter wanted to push back the escaping cum, but decided to leave the boy alone for now and simply took a picture of the mess he had created.

 

He wished, he truly wished this wasn’t the end of their relationship, but it was. It was a sad but wonderful end.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My choice for not making Stiles first-experience a none-consensual was based on deep thought, from the moment Peter dropped in this story I had planned on doing what my Dove had asked with the non-consensual/rape thing but as I began to write Peter as a character in this story and dived deeper into his thought process I couldn’t very well go through with it, not at least by the time I reached this chapter because it really would have fucked things up. Peter isn’t a nice person, he isn’t all there even before the fire which will come to play out (so don’t be shocked) but he isn’t yet completely unhinged; he is cruel and thoughtless, and manipulative and oh so much more. But hasn’t yet (but will be) reached the point where he would force himself on Stiles, because he is still of “sound-mind” and knows /trusts that as long as it is a consensual act that does not make Stiles feel disgusted, as long as the act at that moment is one of love and devotion , then Stiles will not feel the urge to go and confess what has been going on between him and Peter to anyone; yes, he knows Stiles will feel a great deal of shame for it, but not enough to run-off and scream rape. Peter also isn’t that far-gone-to-crazy-town to think Stiles would ever not forgive him for forcing himself on his virgin ass; no, Peter would know that would know that something like violating Stiles body would sever any chance of forgiveness in the future, and it might just ruin the boy completely and push him over the edge which is not what Peter (in my opinion is) wants. Peter wants Stiles to one day forgive and forget what Peter did, to join Peter’s pack, for them to be close once more and raping Stiles just wouldn’t make that possible. You are of course welcomed to argue with me about this if you wish.


	15. Outraged and Broken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek couldn’t help the feeling of hatred he felt towards his uncle, and he had no trouble showing him how little he cared for him. Derek had seen how Stiles had almost bloomed and knew that now after Peter had used the youngest Stilinski that the boy would wither which had already begun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Helloo, my lovelieees. A few notes about this chapter! So, let’s start with Cora; I made Cora (who was a surprise to my Dove who had sort of suggested to not have her in this little gift) young and innocent, she’s about five in this story. Thomas Hale; well, I had free range in my creation of him, and I sort of made him what I’ve always imagined Derek’s dad as if he were a werewolf, I’d happily have a threesome with Derek and my Derek’s version of Derek’s dad - but no more on that – and I have this firm belief that if Derek’s dad wasn’t born Hale and had married the Alpha Hale he would take the name Hale as his own. Then there is this thing about the Hale’s liking Stiles, it’s because I like Stiles and can’t imagine no one liking him (shut up Jackson, you love him too), and because I’ve made Thomas a man who has a sense of humor and loves teasing his kids, I can only imagine him falling for a clever boy like Stiles; and if I had had enough time and the ability to make the ideas into chapters I would have shown the similarities in Mr. Hales and Stiles nature… but one can’t always do what one wants or wishes. Sorry about the perfume part, but I really am pissed off about some people drowning themselves in horrible, cheap perfume or cologne that causes nearly suffocates me or simply creates an unpleasant headache.

 

Until the Martha Wallis, now Hale, was in the house Derek had continued living in the deluded hope that it was all just some horrible mistake. He had continued to hope that Martha Wallis was nothing more than another little joke Peter was playing on the family. Derek had walked around hoping he had simply got the wrong end of the stick; but as Derek watched Martha make herself comfortable and at home in the Hale House, listening to her befriend his Alpha, his mother, and all the other members of the family while proudly displaying her statues as Peter’s expecting mate it became clear that this was all painfully real.

 

What made the whole situation worse was the fact that Stiles had no idea about this arrangement between Peter and Martha. And Derek didn’t have the heart to tell Stiles or even Paige about the new addition to his family, of course this was all very cowardice of him but Derek had never pretend to be honorable or courageous. Then again, Derek had expected his uncle to do the right thing and tell the boy the truth; but for that to happen Peter would have suddenly needed to have found honor but it almost immediately became clear that Peter had no honor.   

 

And because Derek knew what was going on while Stiles did not, the werewolf decided to avoid any and all interaction between him and the youngest Stilinski; he also started making excuses why Paige and Stiles could not be invited to their Sunday night dinners which often was met by raised eyebrows by his mother and unhappy groans from his father and a tantrum from Cora.

 

Derek also made excuses to Paige why he couldn’t hang around both Paige if Stiles was around. Even if Derek was avoiding Stiles he still seemed constantly aware of the suffering Stiles was experiencing, Derek watched as the cracks returned with the lack of contact from Peter.  Derek watched as the desperation grew, he could smell the grief every time another message was ignored by Derek’s uncle and with each unanswered call; there were days when Derek could smell nothing but grief and misery that came off of Stiles like a cheap perfume that has only one task and that is to force forth a dull headache.Derek made excuses for his uncle when he was cornered by Stiles.

 

Derek hated it, he hated making excuses. He hated lying to Paige. He hated avoiding Stiles because frankly he had grown fond of Stiles. The situation was unbearable.

 

And while Derek suffered over Stiles at school or when he was at the Stilinski residence, he also had to deal with Martha who just rubbed Derek the wrong way and not simply because she was incredibly boring; and Derek couldn’t understand why someone who appreciated cleverness as much as Peter did would ever want a mate who was dull by nature.

 

Derek had begun, before the Martha’s sudden appearance, to rethink his earlier judgment in regards of the future between his uncle and Stiles and Derek had truly begun to believe Stiles would make the perfect mate for his uncle; Stiles could keep up with Peter in sarcasm and sass, and Stiles could grow to see through the lies and the manipulative streak Peter possessed. But it seemed that what Derek had thought had been going on between Peter and Stiles had obviously been all wrong; it had all been just another twisted and corrupt game Peter had been playing.

 

The avoiding, the lying and all the excuses were slowly eating Derek up and he hated it; he hated Peter. In the end before everything finally blew-up, Derek ended up lashing out at Peter as well as the rest of his family more than once; which caused him to get grounded which forced Derek to endure more of his family, it was all just a vicious circle.

 

Derek knew that the avoiding game couldn’t continue on forever, and he knew it would come to an end the day Stiles finally had enough of the two Hale’s avoiding him; but when the explosion finally came it was nearly two months since Peter had come home after his last date with Stiles, and when it finally happened it wasn’t pretty or pleasant, whether Peter or Derek liked it.

 

The truth came to light on a Sunday when the heavens decided to wash Beacon Hills with heavy rain. The hidden truths came to be known on the late evening when Derek had all reason to feel joyous and high in spirits after he had proven his worth by bringing his team victory.

 

His fathers angered curses, Cora’s frightened scream, his mother’s angered growl, the screeching of abused tiers and breaks of the car snaps Derek awake breaking the deep slumber he had been in. Derek had fallen asleep once the adrenalin and the excited thrum of joy brought forth by victory had slipped away.Derek might have fallen asleep slowly and with easy but he was sure as hell forced awake and his mind attempted to figure out what had shifted the stillness that had eased him to his much needed rest.

 

`What insane child walks in this weather?´ Talia snarled as she pushed the car door open, voice still full of anger but there was indeed a hint of concern. Cora was still crying, alarmed by the violent swerve her father had made when attempting to avoid barreling their car into the figure that had come running through the heavy rain.

 

Derek tries to calm his sister while his father hurries to follow his wife into the stormy weather, but Derek’s attempts to sooth his youngest sister are pushed aside when he hears his mother ask, `Stiles, is that you?´ 

 

Derek rushes out of the vehicle, unable to comprehend why Stiles would be walking around alone in the rain and the darkness that had fallen. He stunned to find the familiar figure of one Stiles Stilinski moving slowly down the dark and soaked road, everything about his movements suggested that Stiles had run himself out of steam and was now simply moving because he needed to continue moving.

 

Stiles unresponsiveness to the worried calls that were comingfrom Derek’s mother is enough to worry Derek because Stiles had always responded to Derek’s mother. Stiles had always been incredibly respectful and some might say eager to please when it came to Talia Hale, Stiles had always listened to Derek’s mother as if she had been his Alpha.

 

The sense of dread grows when the scent of tears and all those negative emotions that had nearly crippled Stiles were back ten-fold.

 

The clothes that should have sheltered the slender frame were now soaked, and Derek could see that way the body was shivering beneath all the layers of soaked fabrics. Derek is quick to remove his jacket and with clear alarm in his voice he calls out to the only human out on the road that night; Derek hurries to close the distance between him and Stiles and wonders how Stiles had got out there, had someone snatched him and dumped him in the middle of nowhere (it wouldn’t be the first-time)?

 

As soon as Derek placed the jacket upon the shoulders that seemed yet again so brittle, the boy turns and for a moment Derek thinks his senses have deceived him for the face that had been so bright with warmth and radiant with smiles for a few months was now twisted with anger; and that tells the young werewolf that the truth has finally been brought to surface, and Derek is almost about to wrap the boy in a tight hug and offer him all his support and comfort.

 

But Stiles removes the jacket like it is something disgusting, like it’s filth that could blemish his skin for all eternity, the open hostility does not fit the boy Derek grown to care for. Derek doesn’t even bother picking up his jacket, he however does frown and opens his mouth to speak to say something to convince Stiles he was there for him; to convince Stiles that even of Peter was a bastard Stiles could still trust in Derek, to say anything that could make his shivering friend to accept his help and comfort. But Stiles, as always, speaks before Derek has a chance too.

 

`Y-you k-knew.´ Stiles teeth were chattering so badly that Derek feared they would soon break.

 

Derek wants to do was sweep Stiles into the warm car, force the coldness out of the thin body before heading off to beat the ever living life out of his uncle Peter.

 

`Y-you’ve k-known a-a-all t-this t-t-time.´ the horrible stutter is back, made even worse by the clear effort Stiles was having forming words. Derek knows Stiles needs to get warmed up, needs to get out of the rain. The lack of wildly gesturing hands and flailing arms is another sign that Stiles has been out in the rain for far too long, and Derek wants to get Stiles the hell out of there but the anger and hatred accompanied by hurt and distrust as him standing there in the middle of a dark road like a useless statue.  

 

`Stiles, honey, let’s talk in the car. We’re all going to freeze to death, baby.´ Derek hears his mother say, and watches as she makes a move to wrap the blanket they’ve keep in the trunk over their car over the boy who looks like everything from the toes to his heart have been frozen solid. But Stiles pulls away, glaring at her with such hatred that Derek thinks his mother might lash out at him and Derek makes a move to stand between his mother and his friend.

 

`St-stay th-the f-fuck AWAY f-f-from m-m-me! ´ Stiles screams at the top of his lungs, it is enough to stop even Derek’s mother from attempting to get near the freezing boy, and Derek steps away no longer sure he’d even dare to try and protect the boy, which he recognizes as somewhat strange considering how Stiles was just human.

 

`I th-thought, ´ Stiles struggles to speak and glares back at Derek, `I th-thought th-th-that w-we were f-f-fr-friends D-Derek.´ The hurt in Stiles voice was almost too much and Derek could feel the sting of tears in his eyes.

 

`Stiles, come on honey let’s get you out of this rain.´ Talia tries once more, but Stiles moves away from her like she was flames threatening to devour him, like her touch could harm him and with anger in his voice but still with a hint of regret Stiles hisses at Derek’s mother, `I d-don’t n-need h-he-help fr-from y-y-you.´

 

`But darling you do.´ Talia said like a mother talking to a child having a tantrum, she’s back to moving towards Stiles who stumbles backwards as it visibly takes a few seconds before his brain catches what Talia was doing. Derek sees the suspicion in Stiles eyes, and he almost tells the human that his Alpha has been out of the loop, and Derek knows his mother can see the wariness and she glances at Derek as if to ask what the hell was going on, but Stiles is back to screaming.

 

`Y-you’ve kn-known f-f-for w-w-weeks. ´ Stiles yells at Derek, pointing at Derek, but there is no real power in the gesture as the hand seems almost lip and trembling, `WEEKS! ´

 

Derek flinches at the wrath bestow upon him.

 

With desperate tears and with trembling hands that gestured wildly, Stiles stopped screaming and simply spoke with a voice full of heartbreak, `He m-made me l-l-love h-him.´ with his stiff fingers Stiles claws at his chest as if attempting to claw out the shattered heart that had been fooled to love someone who in Derek’s opinion an  undeserving soul.

 

Derek can’t silence the whimper that escapes from him, and his hands are twitching with the want to reach out to Stiles but the thought of Stiles rejecting him stops him.

 

 `He m-made me t-tr-trust him, l-love him.´ there is an almost fevered madness in the way Stiles is clawing for his wounded heart, it hurts to see his friend so devastated but perhaps that was part of Derek’s punishment.

 

`Who are you talking about, Stiles?´ Talia asked as she made another attempt to get close enough to Stiles so that she could wrap him up all nice and snug in the old blanket.

 

`B-b-but he w-was j-j-just u-u-using me.´ Stiles sobbed, tearful eyes locked on Derek who could smell the damage done by the clawing fingers and it made him whimper once more, `He f-fucked me an-and u-used me, t-then..´ the horrible scream that erupted from Stiles sent cold shivers through Derek’s body.

 

`Stiles, honey,´ Derek could hear the anger seeping into her otherwise calm and concerned tone of voice; it was the one voice that could calm even an upset Cora or a furious Laura down, `Who hurt you?´

 

Stiles however was either momentarily deaf or had simply acquired the ability to ignore Derek’s mother, what the reason maybe one thing was sure Stiles continued to express the potency of his distress.

 

`I tr-trusted him.´ Stiles repeated a few more times before finally stabbing Derek in the heart with the following words, `I tr-trusted y-you D-D-Derek.´

 

`Derek? ´ the shock, and anger in his mother’s voice causes Derek to jump, and for a second his panicked mind thinks that his mother thinks it has been him who’s used Stiles and the thought that his mother would think he would use Stiles like that while in love with Paige just horrifies him; but then his mind snaps out of the shock and through the clouds of emotions Derek realizes that his mother wants _him_ to tell the name of the person who has hurt _their_ Stiles. But before Derek can respond to his mother Stiles is back to screaming.

 

`You k-knew, you k-knew De-Derek! ´ 

 

`Son?´  hearing his father’s deep dark voice is almost enough to cause Derek to spill the beans but Stiles continues to talk, well he rather continues to screaming.

 

`You k-knew th-that _he_ w-w-was u-using me!´  Stiles screams and points a furious finger at Derek, and the werewolf’s all flinched at the wrath in the voice; the hands and fingers had at least stopped the desperate clawing while Stiles continues to speak with the almost feverish fashion that seemed to have come to stay.

 

Shaking his head and taking a few more steps away from Derek and his mother, the boy is unsteady on his feet and Derek worries that Stiles might collapse at any moment; but Stiles continues to speak even if it is clearly and effort for the younger boy to do so, and from the expression the boy is wearing it is clear that Stiles is struggling with his thoughts and finding the words he needs to say.  

 

`I th-though y-you m-my fr-friend.´ Stiles cries and the hurt in that alone brings tears to Derek’s eyes, and the way the sentence lacks in wording is enough to make Derek try and get close to Stiles , `W-we n-ne-never we-were, we-were w-we?´ Stiles finishes his small statement that has Derek on the move, and Derek reaches to give comfort but Stiles screams, `DON’T!´

 

`P-Peter w-was pushing m-me, u-using m-me, a-and y-you kn-knew.´ Stiles says while turning to make his way down the road, heading home through the rain perhaps in hopes to have his grief washed away by the cold waters of the sky.

 

Derek almost feels like his heart stopped as Peter’s name finally drops out for everyone to hear; well, everyone being Derek’s mother and father.

 

Derek can feel the anger that explodes inside of his rather intimidating looking father, who had more than once chased away trespassing werewolves just by standing up as tall as possible and showing of the well-structured shape of his muscles.

 

There is a look of complete shock on his mother face when Derek finally dears to glance at her and he knows she is well aware that her younger brother is capable of many things; even that which Stiles has been expressing so painfully and loudly. But still Derek thinks that his mother might choose to deny it, to call Stiles a liar, but instead she surprises Derek by doing what little she can to help Stiles.  But Derek is sure that he and his uncle will be meeting the force that was their Alpha’s wrath.

 

`Stiles, honey, ´ Derek hears his mother’s voice all soft and reassuring from beside him, while also feeling his father furious glare drill through his skull and Derek does everything possible to appear as small as possible; he may fear his Alpha’s punishment but he is absolutely terrified of his father’s anger; one could have easily mistaken Stiles as Thomas Hale’s son by the almost visible hunger and need to avenge Stiles.

 

But Stiles is unaware of the reactions of the three Hale’s, and simply continues to express his anger when the Alpha dares to tell him to get out of the rain. With bitterness in his voice Stiles begins to turn down Derek’s mother’s offer to drive Stiles home.  

 

`No t-th-hanks.´ Stiles says trying to dry his face with the soaking sleeve of his coat, `I-I’d r-rather n-n-not st-stain y-your f-f-family with m-my f-f-f-filthy pr-pr-presence.´

 

Derek flinches at the loud growl that escapes hid father, and he hears his father say in the lowest of low voices that could not even be called a whisper, `I. Will. Kill. Him.´

 

`Don’t be ridiculous.´ Talia Hale says as she begins yet again to attempt to wrap the blanket over the shivering form, she moves slowly as if approaching a startled animal and not a heartbroken teenager, but like a startled animal Stiles hurried away from Derek’s mother, shaking his head which causes the boy look like he is about to lose his balance but somehow he does not collapse right there and then.

 

`Stiles, please, get in the car.´ Talia says and it is no longer a request but a demand, an order, which Derek would obey but which Stiles feels no need to do so; or he would have done so before Stiles obviously became convinced that all the Hale’s were corrupt monsters that were out to get him, and frankly Derek couldn’t blame him for it.  

 

Shaking his head Stiles continues to move as if he was going to get back to walking home in the heavy rain, and Derek can’t let Stiles walk-off alone in the dark and the heavy rain that just seemed to keep on coming down on them without relenting the slightest, the werewolf screams out the name Paige used when demanding Stiles attention a name Derek had never dared to use before.

 

`Genim.´ it brings Stiles to a momentary stop, and it feeds a cruel hope into Derek who makes once more a move towards his friend, `Please.´

 

`T-tell me, Derek,´ Stiles speaks glancing over his shoulder with eyes red and tearstained, eyes that made Stiles suddenly look like he had been worn out and down into a shell of a human, `wh-who n-ne-needs en-enemies w-wh-when o-one ha-has a fr-friend li-like y-you?´

 

~*~

 

Since her very early childhood there had been one rule, one law that had been forced down Talia Hale’s throat until it was set firmly inside her very core; this law was one Talia had followed faithfully even when her own morals and values were not at ease with the code that had been passed down generations of Hale’s.

 

`Love.´ Talia called out softly to her husband who hurried to stand by her side, his large hand sneaking into hers; his touch calming the storm of anger and their bond soothing his own unhappiness. It was moments like these when just a simple touch could ease any storm within her that

reminded her of what Peter would never be privileged to experience; but he had made his bed, and so must lay in it even if Martha was left to suffer the lack of a bond between two souls forged from the same core.

 

`Could you please follow young Stiles?´ Talia asked her mate as she leaned in closer to his much larger frame, the body was an image of pure strength and she would more often than not describe it as a great and unbreakable stonewall, Talia had always appreciated the built of her husband and so did most females and males that set their eyes upon him; but she never felt threatened by the attention given to her mate, for she knew his heart and soul belonged to her as did hers to him.

 

`Should we not try and get him?´ Thomas asked, and she could sense how much he just wanted to take the boy into his care; she had never imagined her husband would have grown so fond of Stiles, considering how Thomas had been raised in a pack that had firm beliefs that humans were the lesser species.

 

`I could get him.´ Thomas said eyes latched on the boy that seemed unable to walk without swaying.

 

`You think it wise to force the son of a deputy into our car? Is it not enough that my brother has violated him? ´ Talia asked her mate, her hold of her beloved tightening ever so slightly.

 

She would of course love it if they could without consequence force the boy into their car, and wrap him in the blanket, but she had her doubts Stiles would not inform the authorities; getting herself and her mate arrested with Peter would harm her pack far more than if she just let the boy walk away in the forceful rain.

 

Thomas sighed as he shook his head. Talia reached out to kiss her husband on his cheek he hadn’t shaved in days and she found the roughness that brushed against her skin rather pleasant, she didn’t mind Thomas shaved or unshaved as he was perfect none the less in her eyes.

 

`Will you please follow him, I would hate it if something happened to him.´ The image of Stiles lifeless body splayed at the side of the road flashed through her mind, and it was such vivid image that it made her blood run cold.

 

`Please do it discreetly.´ Talia said as she stepped away from her mate, who gave her a short nod. It did not surprise Talia that Thomas made no complaints as he had suggested more than once that they should adopt the boy by the means of buying him from the remaining biological parent. Thomas’ had also hinted that it would be in the best interest of their pack and Stiles’, to have Stiles take the bite (he had not said that Talia should give the boy the bite, although Talia had a feeling that Thomas wouldn’t mind her forcing the bite on the boy) for it too would bind the boy to the Hale pack and make him as good as a Hale.

 

But it hadn’t only been Thomas who had been charmed by the boy who had been had been invited to Sunday night dinners simply because he was Paige Stilinski’s little brother, but soon enough one had to wonder if it wasn’t Paige who was invited to Sunday dinners because of Stiles. The boy had settled in nicely with the pack, far better than Paige had and she was the one they all expected to join their ranks once she was old enough to mate with Derek.

 

Watching her mate vanish into the darkness, mind for now settled on keeping the boy safe as possible but Talia knew that once Stiles was safe at home Thomas would cero in on Peter. If Talia was perfectly honest she would have liked nothing more than the hand her brother over to Thomas.

 

With a sigh and a glance up at the sky above she wished for guidance from her ancestors, or at least strength to act as their laws required. Of course Talia knew what she would do, the pack came first and foremost and because Stiles wasn’t a werewolf nor mated to one any justice to him was of no importance – even if she would have wished nothing more than to have Peter suffer for hours and hours, even if she wanted to drag his bloodied and beaten body to Alec Stilinski’s doorstep and force her brother to confess his crime, she could not. Her duty wasn’t to Stiles Stilinski no matter how sweet he was, her duty was to the pack.

 

But if Peter thought he could just leave Stiles used and broken, well then his brother had another thing coming to him.

 

`You.´ Talia growled at her son, pointing at Derek with a clawed finger and eyes glowing crimson, `Get. In. The. Car.´ Talia sees her son flinch which she just doesn’t care much about, she is equally uninterested in hiding how furious she is with her son for having obviously played a part in the dealings between Stiles and her younger brother.  

 

Talia didn’t care about how hurt Derek was about Stiles, or how sorry he was about the part he had played in causing the younger boy the distress he was in. Talia felt Derek should have known better, and by the heavens she had expected so much more from him.  

 

`You will not speak a word. Not a word Derek. You will not speak a word until spoken too, is that understood Derek? ´ Talia growled as they made their way back to the car, if Derek hadn’t been her son and if she didn’t love him then he would be left out there on the road beaten and bloodied and forced to make his own way home.

 

Derek gave a short nod. He looked miserable, like a puppy kicked and beaten, waiting to be rejected and abused a little bit more and still hoping for the best.

 

She picks up her sons discarded jacket, the very one Peter had bought him last Christmas, `I will deal with you and your uncle later.´ Talia tossed the jacket too her son before stalking towards the car that was still running on the side of the road. It took all of her inner strength to push down enough of her anger so that she would not alarm Cora, with older siblings and all their teenage angst of them and their cousins the little girl in the backseat wouldn’t react to Derek’s mood-shift as much as she would when it came to that of her mother and Alpha. There was another good thing with Cora being as young as she was; her senses had yet to develop fully which was for now a blessing as she had not heard the arguing going on outside the car.

 

`Whe’s Tiles? ´ Cora asked as soon as Talia took her place behind the wheel of the car, Talia looked over at her daughter who was hugging her teddy bear Obby, while trying to peer outside to see Stiles; like her mate her daughter too had taken a shine to the human boy.

 

Cora had more than once informed the pack that she would be the one marrying Stiles Stilinski once she was old enough and Stiles had taken the bite; they would have a big princess themed wedding and Stiles would be riding on a white horse, and Cora and Stiles would live in a pink house in the woods and have nine babies.

 

`He’s going home, princess.´ Talia tells her daughter while Derek gets back inside the car, and trying hard not to show how miserable he is, `Daddies walking with him, so they can plan on how to torture your siblings.´ Talia tried to smile as she winked at her daughter who was frowning as her little mind was processing the information given; but after some deep thought Cora seemed to accept what had been said and smiled at her mother happily while asking if Stiles could come over for dinner on Sunday.

 

`Honey, it’s Sunday today so no.´ Talia explained as she started to drive her kids back to home, her heart heavy as she said, `But maybe next Sunday.´

 

Cora squealed happily at the prospect of showing of one of her new dresses to Stiles, it was so pretty that it made Cora into a real princess or at least that was what her daddy had told her. Cora also made a quick demand that Talia should help her do her hair all pretty and wavy, because Cora’s Tiles liked it that way.

 

Talia just gave a nod and a sad smile at her daughter who continued for the rest of the drive to talk about Stiles and her. Talia couldn’t imagine Stiles visiting them in the near future, but she didn’t have the heart to tell Cora that they might have lost Stiles and if she did then there would be all too many questions to be answered.

 

Talia wished she could just kill her good-for-nothing brother.

 

 


	16. My Brother. My Beta.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Talia Hale looked at her brother, the one who had the most beautiful eyes, and was enraged to see no shame or discomfort in him even now when he knew that the cat was out of the bag. And for a moment she felt the want to end his life. Never before had she felt such a desire to kill.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wish I could have done more with this chapter, but I just couldn’t make it work because of the laws of the Hale-pack that I made in my head wouldn’t allow me to bring forth the wrath of Talia Hale in a magnificently evil way. I hate my brain…

 

As the lights of the house came through the wall of trees that surrounded the building she called home, Talia Hale felt a growl slip through her. The sound however faint  startled her son, but her youngest lay silent in her peaceful slumber unaware of her mother's anger. Usually seeing the house where she had been born in brought her a sense of peace, tonight however it made her hackles rise and she growled unhappily while giving her son another glare. She had always known being an Alpha would never be easy, she'd known being a parent would not be a task without its own struggles, and still with all that wisdom nothing had prepared her for the situation she now found herself in.  

 

As she parked the car Talia spoke with a voice barely loud enough for Derek to hear and not loud enough to disturb Cora, `Would you rather have this issue cleared alone with me, or shall we wait until your father arrives?´

 

Derek’s answer wasn’t a surprise to her, his voice was as low as hers had been, but without the anger hers had held his voice was apologetic and fearful, `Without dad please.´

 

Talia gave her son a short nod before telling him to head straight into her office, then without another word she turned her attention to Cora; by the time she got into the house Derek had already made his way inside the office and the mood inside the house had changed, everyone knew something was up, Richard's daughter Hayley who was two months older than Stiles whispered to her sister Olivia, `Derek’s probably got Paige pregnant.´ to which Olivia responded with an unhappy groan, `Another baby?´

 

`Talia?´ her mother’s voice had the Alpha walking over to the oldest member of their pack, the one person who had enough knowledge about the struggles of being an Alpha and a parent far better than anyone else in the family; Talia walks over to her mother and hands her youngest daughter to the woman who had raised her and all of her brothers, the one person who had at first been against allowing the Stilinski siblings into their home but who had later fallen for the young boy who had something in him that reminded Abigail Hale of her own brother Arthur; it was the clever and curious look in the brown eyes and the way the boy moved that had Abigail so fond of the human boy, and not to mention the way Stiles would sit and listen to her talk about anything and everything.

 

`Will you please take care of Cora for me?´ Talia asked, she never ordered or demanded anything from her mother as she had no right to do so even if she was the Alpha now.

 

With a nod Abigail Hale took her grand-daughter, and as soon as she had done so Talia turned to look at her youngest brother who was sitting on the couch next to his mate. And allowing her Alpha power to sneak out enough to make Peter obey her Talia Hale ordered Peter into her office; it was enough to have everyone in the pack glancing nervously between brother and sister or as they were now Alpha and Beta, and while Peter gets off of the couch Martha follows.

 

`You stay.´ Talia says to the female she had accepted as a member of her pack because of Peter’s recklessness, without Martha around Talia could have lavished Peter with the appropriate punishment and a thought crossed Talia’s mind without warning or effort; perhaps Peter had used Martha to save his skin and place in the pack.

 

`He is my mate and what concerns my mate…´ Martha began to say but as soon as Talia roared out, `Are you challenging me?´ the pregnant female drew back and fell silent, shaking her head while apologizing to Talia for over-stepping the line.

 

Derek was already in the office, standing stark still  and with his head lowered in shame and regret,  and  with clothes wet and clinging to his body that would one day surely be as impressive as his fathers was. Talia closed the door behind her and her brother who behaved as if he had done nothing wrong, but there was no hiding the faint scent of Stiles that had been latched itself on Peter. The knowledge of what Peter had done made the scent of Stiles churn her insides until she felt almost sick enough to throw-up the fast-food dinner she had eaten hours ago.

 

Talia ignored her brother for now and turned her focus to Derek who had yet to look up. She still needed time, time to think and plan the form of action she should take when it came to Peter. Dealing with Derek would be much easier.  

Talia didn’t take a seat in her usual spot behind the large desk, or in any of the comfortable chairs placed in the room, the room had been made sound-proof by the late-Alpha Hale years before his death. Talia focused her Alpha gaze on her son who was seeing the sister of the boy that had been violated by a member of the Hale pack.

Talia couldn't help the feeling like she had failed Stiles.

 `Derek, what part have you played in this disaster?´  Talia asked while she watched her son who finally looked up, his eyes all wide and full of regret but then he turned his attention from his mother to his uncle and the look turned into a glare; a glare that made Talia feel like Derek wanted to see the insides of his uncle splayed out on the fine carpet beneath his feet. And before Peter could even asked what was going on Derek started to tell Talia about when Stiles had snatched Peter’s attention, and although Talia had expected Derek to leave out his full involvement in the mess that had broken Stiles’ little heart but her son was honest in his part, and the more Talia heard the more disappointed she became with her son and this was long before Peter let it slip that Derek had been abusing the human boy in his own way; Talia was horrified by what her son had been up too, and by the time Derek reached the end of his confession Talia handed out her judgment.

`You Derek Matthew Hale will not speak to Stiles unless spoken too. You _will_ keep your distance from Stiles, unless _he_ seeks you out. But _you_ will also make sure no harm comes to him; and _if_ he is harmed you _will_ be punished for your failure to protect him as you should have done from the start.´ Talia is being lenient, she knows she is but there is a part of her that is sure Derek is already suffering enough, `You will be grounded for the next five-months,´ Derek looked like his heart was about to break at the prospect of being unable to be near Paige outside of school and so Talia took pity on her son and said, ` you _will_ be allowed to see Paige, but no other interactions outside of school or family will be allowed; if you break this rule you will not be seeing Paige.´

 

Derek looked like he was about to kiss his mother’s feet and thank her benevolence but she ignored it, and continued to set out the rules with which Derek should live by until the five-months had passed, `Your father will strip your room from all forms of entertainment, at the end of every day you will hand me your phone, and _if_ there are _any_ signs of contact outside of school and family and Paige the phone _will_ be under-lock-and-key until your free to live your life once more.´

 

Derek gave short nods, be they short they were still very eager, and the gratitude in his eyes made it clear that he had expected far-worse of a punishment than what she had seen fit to give him.

 

`I’m done with you for now. You may leave.´

 

Derek gives his mother a quick thank you and hurried towards the double-doors but pauses by the door and while baring his throat he asks very timidly, `Alpha, what if Stiles contacts me? What if he wishes to see me?´

 

`Then you should consider yourself blessed to find such a forgiving friend.´ Talia said with an unnecessary loud voice that held a smidge of coldness. But with a sigh she continued, `If Stiles is willing to spend time with you, then I will allow it.´ Derek smiles the tiniest of smiles as he left the chamber.

 

With Derek out of the room Talia turned to face her brother who had taken a seat in one of the chairs, he looked  relaxed and she knew why; Peter knew she could not gut him, he knew she could not banish him and his mate without having the Wallis-pack declaring war on the Hale-pack and Peter knew Talia would not risk a war between her pack and another.

 

`You _disgust_ me.´ Talia hisses at her younger brother who will never become the Alpha of the Hale-pack, she will make sure of that. Talia would start training Laura for the position of Alpha at once so that Peter’s chance to become future Alpha would become minimalized, `I'm ashamed to call you my brother.´

 

Talia is shocked at the lack of reaction from her little-brother; it only assures her of how corrupt her brother truly was.

 

`Let’s get to the point, sister.´ Peter said as he laid his hands against the arm-rests, all calm and at ease even when faced with his angry Alpha, `What will you do to me, Talia? Send me to my room without dinner?´

 

Talia glared at Peter while she began to speak, and she made no attempt to hide how much she hated her brother, ` _You_ are _never_ going anywhere near Stiles Stilinski _ever_ again _. If_ he ever comes back to us, _you_ will _not_ speak to him or touch him. You are forbidden to have any contact with him, if you do I will cut-you-down like the filth you are.´

 

When Peter rolled his eyes and that was all it took to have her launch herself at him. Her claws broke through her brother’s skin, and dear heavens how much she enjoyed the feeling of squeezing the nasty little life out of her brother, and with just a bit more added pressure and she could just breaking the life out of him. But killing Peter would not do and so she released her hold and simply held him in place while she growled and snarled and hissed out her judgment.

 

`You will devote your life and attention to your mate and child, regardless of how little you truly care for Martha, you will learn to adore her and your children; there will be no more mistakes, Peter, none. If there are I will not hesitate to hand you over to the Wallis-pack.´ Talia looked the way the demand sunk into her brother, and once she was sure he understood what she was demanding from him Talia continued, `You are to leave young Stiles alone. Never to go near him or to contact him in anyway or form or I swear to the heavens Peter that I will hand you over to the Argents,´ the threat was a promise, a promise that had the eyes she had once admired as beautiful widen with humiliating terror, `You are not to influence his life any further. If you do, I will hand you over to Gerald Argent, do you understand?´

 Peter gave a nod, and there was no doubt he understood the danger he was in.

 

` _If_ Stiles _ever_ returns to us, you will stay away from him while still showing him a great deal of respect he desrves; for it is not _he_ who is at fault here, it is _you_ and _you_ alone.´ Talia spoke slowly, her hand tightening when she mentioned the boy she had thought odd but yet adorable; the boy had grown on her, and she hoped Stiles would one day feel comfortable enough to return to her pack. But Talia feared that Peter had pushed the boy out of their lives, making it impossible for Talia to ever offer the bite to the boy and for him to grasp it with both hands; Paige would be offered the bite to secure her as Derek’s mate, but Stiles would have been chosen and offered the bite because of how uniquely perfect the boy was for a human. Stiles would have been the first human to ever be offered the bite without being mated with a member of the pack, but Stiles was special enough to be worthy of such a break in traditions.

 

`For the following three-years, my brother, you will be training with my dear mate.´ Talia nearly smirked as another wave of dread washed over her brother, Talia had been sure that the amount of fondness her mate felt for the human had not gone unnoticed by Peter, `I will not stop him, Peter. Thomas, will be your punishment.´

 Talia can’t hide the little cruel smile that passes her lips.

 

 


	17. Repulsive Stiles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A worthless whore that was what Stiles was. Stiles knew it to be true as he stood in the shower trying to wash of the filth that made him who he was. Stiles scrubbed his skin raw and red in the vain attempt to wash away the shit that made him who he was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m hating Peter A LOT right now.

 

Stiles Stilinski had been so excited by the prospect of seeing Peter Hale after what felt like forever of no contact at all; Stiles had of course understood or simply convinced himself that the sudden shift in their relationship had to be kept even more secretive and Stiles understood that they had to be even more careful about what they were doing. Stiles had understood Peter’s need to focus on shining brightly at college just as Stiles had to do at High School. Stiles understood it all, and he trusted Peter enough not to freak-out about the lengthened silence that had fallen between them after their night at the Hotel; he trusted Peter because Peter loved him and he loved Peter. And still it hadn’t stopped Stiles from pestering Derek, who had grown strangely distant which was a shame as Stiles had thought they might have become actual friends.

 

Stiles had been gloriously naïve, Stiles knew it now; he knew he had been beyond just being naïve. Peter hadn’t loved him when he was such a useless human being who couldn’t even see through the web of lies Peter had woven in order to get his stupid ass in med. Stiles knew he should’ve questioned Peter’s supposed interest in him, because why would someone like Peter Hale love someone like him.

 

Stiles let out a frustrated sob as he dropped the keys for the fifth-time while trying to unlock the door to the house that stood dark and silent in the rain, his fingers were stiff and numb from the cold that had seeped into his bones.

 

It was strange coming home feeling so completely and utterly destroyed after only an hour ago leaving the house feeling all excited and jubilant.  He’d heard that Peter was back in town, and knowing that Talia and Thomas would be out of the house in order to show their support to Derek who was playing a game against a school that had as good as slaughtered the Beacon Hills basketball team during each of their games, so being who Stiles was he had thought it would be a rather romantic gesture if he surprised Peter by turning up unannounced baring freshly-baked cookies.

 

Stiles had been so keen to see Peter, believing that Peter would be as thrilled about seeing Stiles as Stiles was about seeing him, and now all Stiles wanted to do was to forget all about Peter Hale. Stiles had been deliriously happy when he had left the house, but now as he returned soaked to the bone and shivering from the cold he felt like giving up on life.

 

Heather and Paige dropped Stiles off just before the Hale driveway came to view, with a quick goodbye to his sister and Heather Stiles hurried up towards the driveway while Heather turned the car with surprising skill and on the rather narrow stretch of road, the two girls were off to the movies.

 

Stiles had almost skipped up the driveway, he imagined all the ways Peter might react when Stiles turned up at the door of the Hale House; he was sure someone in the house would hear him coming long before he reached the front-door; but to those in the house it wouldn’t be all that odd for Stiles to come over to the house considering how he’d drop by now and again returning some of the Tupperware’s that always seemed to find their way into Stiles or Paige’s backpacks after Hale dinners as Abigail Hale always insisted that the Stilinski’s needed her leftovers more than her own family did, it wasn’t too strange for Stiles todrop in on the Hale’s in order to help Derek with homework or to talk with Richard Hale about all the things he had found out about Stiles’ ancestors, and not to mention all the times Stiles came over just to hang around Derek’s dad who was more than happy to teach Stiles how to drive.

 

Unlike his sister Stiles didn’t feel uncomfortable going around the Hale’s outside of the usual Sunday dinners or the sudden invitations that came every now and again, Stiles liked the Hales and Stiles thought they liked him.

 

Thinking back to all the times Stiles had been around the Hale’s has him crying against the front-door, because there is no way he can be around them anymore; not when they will all now know what a whore he had been, there was no way Talia Hale would want someone so repulsive as Stiles anywhere near his family.

 

Peter had appeared like a ghost in the night long before Stiles had reached the house. There was a surge of joy that exploded within him as he saw Peter, not to mention how he couldn’t stop remembering how sexy the body beneath the fine clothes was; the clothes made no attempt at hiding the sculptured body Peter possessed.

 

`Hi.´ Stiles had said without even trying to hide how excited he was about seeing Peter, Stiles had raised the Tupperware box that held the milk chocolate chip cookies that held just enough macadamia in them not to make them regular chocolate chip cookies, `I brought cookies for the kiddies. Made them myself.´

 

Stiles had been so proud with the way his cookies had turned out. He had managed to make the cookies the way his mother had always made them. Stiles had felt so good about himself, about seeing Peter, about the cookies – everything had left Stiles feeling so good about being alive.

 

The feeling of being on the top of the world shattered at the sight of Peter who did not look at all pleased to see him, Peter looked rather furious and this sense of anger was without doubt or hesitation directed towards Stiles.

 

`You really are stupid, aren’t you.´ Peter had said, voice laced with malice which Stiles had never heard in the voice of the werewolf before, it was shocking enough for Stiles to almost dropping the box he was holding like a precious treasure.

 

`Wh-what? ´ coldness had seeped into Stiles and it made the smile Stiles had been sporting to shatter.

 

Stiles may have been naïve and stupid, but he could still realize what a terrible mistake he had made by assuming that Peter would appreciate a visit from him.

 

`I thought you were smarter than this.´ Peter had said half-snarling with eyes showing the supernatural beast within him, `But I was wrong, wasn’t I _Stiles_.´ the way Peter had said his name made it clear that Stiles was something disgusting, Stiles had in one swift swoop turned worthless in Peter’s eyes.

 

The change had been an incredible shock, and truly unexpected.

 

Stiles began to hit his head against the door, trying to get the memory of Peter out of his head; hoping he would end up cracking his skull wide open, and praying he would end up killing himself. He banged his head against the door until he couldn’t do it anymore because he simply didn’t have the strength to spend what remained on beating his skull against the door; with his head throbbing and with stars and black spots dancing through his vision, Stiles went back to try and unlock the door once more.

 

`Oh, Stiles, you thought I would actually want you?´  Peter had laughed, but it wasn’t the laughter that had made Stiles feel like someone had shoved ice-water down his throat and injected more of the cold liquid into his veins, `How could I, a future Alpha be with a worthless little human boy?´ Stiles had opened his mouth to say something, anything really, but he couldn’t because there was suddenly a horrible lump in his throat that was slowly chocking him to death and due to his silence Peter had been allowed to continue to break Stiles apart with his words, `An Alpha _needs_ a proper mate and not some _fragile_ human.´

 

Peter had continued to speak with a voice full of cruelty and hatred while Stiles’ heart shattered into a million tiny pieces, `I’ve found my mate, Stiles, months ago even before I found you.´ Stiles had been shaking his head, trying to tell Peter to stop, `You were my last game to play before truly giving myself to my mate.´ Stiles had begged with a weak voice for Peter to stop, but the werewolf hadn’t stop not even let-up a little, and as the rain began to fall with the few small drops before the shower that would follow the words grew more vicious, `You weren’t much of achallenge, which was a shame, I had thought that a child like you and not tomention the son of a deputy wouldn’t have been such a filthy little whore; I mean you spread your legs out and presented yourself like a bitch in heath.´

 

With the stiff click of the luck finally giving in, Stiles slipped into the house that was empty and cold, the house was dark and Stiles could barely see his way through the house and yet he did not bother turning on the lights. Soaked to the bone and crying once more that night,Stiles headed up stairs, feeling like the dirty and worthless whore he was. His soaking snickers made an irritating sound as he made his way up the stairs, sobbing loudly every now and again, while his mind brought back everything that had happened between him and Peter not too long ago.

 

`Don’t look at me like that, ´ Peter had said after he had in plenty of ways used his skillful tongue to cut Stiles down intonothing, `You got what you wanted from me, didn’t you? A cock in that tight little hole of yours.´ Stiles had tried to say he had wanted Peter, he’d wanted Peter for the rest of his life, he had wanted to tell Peter how much he had loved him but couldn’t not when hearing the horrible way Peter described their relationship as being in lack of better words _nothing_.

 

`Now, run on home little boy, ´ Peter had barked at Stiles before turning his back on him, `I’m done with you.´

 

Stiles ran home, but not before he had thrown the box of cookies at the back of Peter’s head. He ran until he could hardly breathe, he had replaced running with walking and he walked while screaming and crying; he didn’t stop until he was nearly hit by Thomas and Talia Hale. Stiles refused any help from the Hale’s, he ignored Talia’s tries to lure him to the car and turned down any offer of help and went back to running home; but half-way home he realized he was being followed, he wasn’t sure if it was by Derek or Talia or Thomas, who it may have been was ignored by Stiles all the way home. 

 

Stiles turned on the water, and climbed under the spray of water that turned warmer and warmer until it was painfully hot, Stiles stood there in the shower with his soaking clothes still coveringhis body. He stood there sobbing until he realized how filthy he was and with that thought he started to try and remove his clothes, in the end Stiles grabbed the scissors from the cabinet below the sink and cut the shirts he was wearing off by the time he was shirtless all he fought to get rid of his skinny-jeans and his batman boxers; and when finally naked Stiles started to try and scrub off of his body, he scrubbed his skin red and raw, he washed every part of his body even the places he hadn’t  given as much attention too before. But no matter how hard Stiles scrubbed, and no matter how much he used his soap the repulsiveness that made Stiles who he was couldn’t or simply wouldn’t come off of him.

 

Then there is a thought that jumps up inside his head, it comes with the maddening frenzy of trying to get rid of what has to be an almost putrid filth that makes him who he is, perhaps what makes him so disgusting and wrong isn’t on his skin but underneath it; what if it’s in his blood?

 

With that thought Stiles stumbles out of the shower, the water still running like there’s no tomorrow, and he ignores the pain he feels when his knees hit the tiled floor and crawls over to where he had hid one of his blades; his hands are shaking and he can barely see what he is doing when he unwraps the item that will cleans him, with a few deep breathes as his mind begins to doubt he slits his wrist and as the familiar sensation of the act itself and the eagerness of his blood as it escaped from his body.

 

With a content sigh Stiles sat himself down, and closed his eyes as he needed a rest, just a rest.

 

 


	18. Bleeding Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With bloodied hands he returned home to tell the news to his mate and Alpha, with a heavy heart he left the boy and the grieving father.

 

Thomas Hale could have easily and without judgment from others walked back home as soon as the human boy had entered the house. Thomas could have just left Stiles be on his own, and his mate wouldn’t have blamed him for it. But Stiles wasn’t just another human to Thomas Hale, he was special enough to make werewolf care for him, and that was why Thomas stayed.

 

Thomas hid himself fully determined to keep an ear on things until someone came home or Stiles went to bed. Thomas listened to the sobbing and the way the boy was berating himself, listening to it was almost bad enough to make Thomas wish he could just walk into the house and wrap the boy up in his arms and comfort him; to tell Stiles he was not worthless or repulsive, to tell him how there was nothing wrong with him being gay that he was still wonderful and brilliant even if Stiles liked boys and not girls. But Thomas didn’t think Stiles would welcome one of the Hale's, even if it would have been the one who had spent hours teaching him how to drive and with whom he had teased Derek without sense or mercy, and so Thomas stood and listened while hoping that someone would come home soon enough so that he didn’t have to suffer too long.

 

As minutes passed anger flared inside the werewolf, the anger shifted between him cursing Alec Stilinski for being far more interest in his work than in his son (Thomas would never chose work above family, family and pack came first and so did Stiles. Then he’d grow wrathful towards Peter, imagining all the ways he would torture his brother-in-law. Thomas had just finished cursing Peter and Alec Stilinski, when the scent of blood caught his attention, it took but mere seconds before his wolf directed him to the direction from which the delicious scent came and when the information hit him he ran out from hiding and up towards the front-door of the Stilinski house.

 

The front-door was not locked and Stiles had in his less than clear-minded state left the door ajar that gave him access without having to use his strength to break through the feeble excuse for a door, the scent of blood turned into a stench that had Thomas running up the stairs following the scent of blood like a feral beast. He could hear the familiar beat of the heart that had surprised and broken every prejudice Thomas had considering humans. Thomas knew from the potency of the bloody stench that the heartbeat was only a few lines from breaking pattern in a way that had Thomas breaking through the locked bathroom door like it had been made of nothing more than a few sheets of paper.

 

`STILES!´ Thomas roared at the sight of the boy slumped on the floor, a blade in one hand and a wrist cut open and bleeding all over the floor, the boy didn’t flinch and his eyes didn’t even flutter at the loudness of Thomas’ voice. The boy was pale and naked, and when Thomas reached the boy that was thin and fragile compared to him, the pale skin was unusually pale and cold to the touch and it had Thomas panicking because he knew humans could not and would not heal like his kind did, and so he grabbed the nearest towel and wrapped it tightly around the self-inflicted wound.

 

`Stiles, son, don’t give up now.´ Thomas whispered into the oh so short and soft hair and like the delicate thing Stiles was Thomas picked him up with such care and still he feared he would hurt the boy as he carried Stiles to the room that smelled the strongest like the slowly fading child in his arms.

 

`Don’t give up, kid, don’t you dare.´ Thomas growled as he laid the limp body down on the bed that hadn’t been made, Unhelpfully Thomas’ mind told him Talia wouldn’t approve of Stiles leaving his bed unmade.

 

With bloodied hands shaking like he was having fit of sorts, Thomas reached for his cell-phone and as he waited for someone to pick up on the other end of the line he put more pressure on the bleeding wound. He could live with breaking the fragile bone as long as Stiles didn’t die.  

 

Thomas staid with the boy until the ambulance arrived, he talked to the boy until Alec Stilinski came bursting into the small bedroom pale as a ghost screaming for his son and praying for what deity he believed in to spare his only son. Thomas staid until Stiles was loaded into the ambulance with his father clutching at his lifeless hand like it was the only way to ensure that Stiles wouldn’t depart the world of the living.

 

Thomas gave staid at the Stilinski house as long as it took for him to give his statement to another police officer that arrived at the scene, the woman looked anxious as she asked each question and Thomas her neat little lies and half-truths until she gave him the right to leave the miserable house; Thomas could have easily called his mate or someone else in the pack, to ask someone to pick him up and drive him home, or he could have taken the offered ride from the officer but he needed to run because all he could think about was what he had found in the Stilinski bathroom.

 

Thomas ran straight home beating himself up for not noticing what had been going on between Peter and Stiles, for not being able to understand that Stiles couldn’t be left alone; Thomas should have walked up to the boy the moment he started beating his head against the front-door and just sat with him until a member of his family came home, what Thomas had done was nothing at all and that did not sit well with him.

 

Thomas could have stopped by a stream and washed off the blood, he could have done it but he wanted Talia to see the evidence of the destruction her good for nothing brother had created. He wants to beat Peter into the ground and replace Stiles blood with Peter’s, he wants Peter to bleed out just as Stiles had done. Thomas was out for blood and nothing but Talia could stop him and she did just that.

 

`Thomas.´ his Alpha’s voice was full of warning, as he approached the house. Talia was standing outside of their home arms crossed and eyes glowing red, `who’s blood is that?´

 

`Stiles.´ Thomas growled, raising his hand and moving them so she could see the amount that had latched on to his tanned skin.

 

Talia’s beautiful eyes widened at his answer and the red drained away replacing the terrifying red with something more manageable.

 

`Stiles tried to end his life Talia. Your brother hurt him that much, Peter has as good as killed him.´ Thomas snarled, he was suddenly equally enraged with Talia as he was with Peter; she was Peter’s Alpha and sister, if anyone should have known what was going on it should have been her.

 

`Is – is he dead?´ Talia asked, voice breaking and trembling, and suddenly she looked much smaller with the amount of dread that washed over her; the great Alpha looked nothing like the statues she carried, and Thomas was once more reminded that this person wasn’t just an Alpha but she was also his mate whom he loved.

 

Thomas wrapped his arms around his wonderful mate and held her tightly against his soaking body, and with a voice thick with worry he answered the question given, `He was still alive when the ambulance left.´

 

Nuzzling against his neck he heard Talia whisper, `Please let us not lose him.´

 

~*~

 

Alec Stilinski could not take this anymore, watching his son on another bed in another hospital; tubes going in and out of his thin body, he couldn’t handle another funeral and he couldn’t handle having to visit another headstone. The thought of losing his only son had Alec clutching the hand that felt so cold and clammy, Alec couldn’t even look at the bandaged arm he had got an unwanted a glimpse of the damage Stiles had done in the ambulance; the long cut had traveled up in one long rough line, he had nearly been sick at the sight and the memory of it would haunt him till the day he died.

 

It was incredibly hard to sit there; unable to do anything else than hold on to Stiles with both hands while praying that he would be strong enough to fight the darkness that threatened to take him. There was nothing else Alec could do but beg his wife not to take his child away from him. He could only beg her to tell Stiles there was still so much for him to do, to tell him about all the wonderful things he had still ahead of him.

 

_Claudia, our boy hasn’t even fallen in love yet. Stiles hasn’t even had his first-kiss or his first-girlfriend. Claudia, please don’t take him from me. I need him._

 

Alec held on tight to his son like he had done almost a year ago, but back then his son hadn’t tried to end his own life. Back then it had been nothing more than an accident that had threatened to take his curious little boy from him, back then he hadn’t had to worry about his son wanting to finish the job once they got him back home; now he had to think about it and that terrified him.

 

_I thought he was finally settling in. I thought he was if not happy then at least less miserable than a few months ago. How was I so wrong?_

 

Alec felt like crying, he had been crying, but the urge was returning with full-force.

 

`D-d-dad? ´

 

The voice of his son was weak and rough, and from what he could tell Stiles had not expected to wake-up where he was and did that not just make Alec feel like shit; his son hadn’t expected to wake-up at all.

 

`Oh, God son.´ Alec sobbed as he reached out to hug his son, he might be forced to commit his son like the doctor had suggested, perhaps committing his son would be the best form of action considering this time wasn’t the only time his son had tried to end his precious life; but the thought of having his son locked-up somewhere where stranger would care for him just felt wrong to Alec, because family took care of family.

 

`Wh-why am I in th-the h-ho-hospital? Wh-what happened? ´ Stiles honestly seemed confused by the situation, he didn’t seem disappointed or upset about being alive and that made Alec pause for a moment, then as he looked at his son he said with a voice as calm as possible, `Stiles, you were found in the bathroom bleeding out.´

 

The shock on Stiles face and the tears that started streaming down were enough to make Alec doubt the over-all opinion that everyone including him had made. Perhaps Stiles hadn’t intended to kill himself?

 

`Stiles, were you trying to...´ hell, Alec couldn’t even bring himself to say it out loud, but Stiles was bright enough to understand what his father couldn’t bring himself to say.

 

`No. No. I didn’t.´ Stiles said quickly, he swore he hadn’t intended to hurt himself as badly as he had done; he swore and confessed he had only wanted ease some of the pain he was feeling, to just get rid of some of the filth that was inside of him. The strange wording made Alec raise one of his eyebrows and he sat back down in his chair by the bed, hands tightly encasing the fragile hand of his son before asking, `Why do you think you’re filthy son?´

 

Stiles turned his tearful eyes away from his father, and Alec suddenly had a ray of horrible possibilities flash through his mind everything from Stiles being hooked on drugs (maybe Paige wasn’t on top of how much Adderall Stiles was taking) to his being molested by someone like Gerald Argent (Alec had always felt there was something wrong with the teacher). But even if his son was about to tell him he was a girl trapped in a boy’s body, he would handle it and he would help his son through what horrible thing had brought his son to cut himself; Alec would help and protect Stiles even from Stiles himself.

 

`I-I’m, ´ to see the struggle his son was suffering through had Alec tightening his hold of his son, the gesture wordless promise of support and comfort; a promise that no matter what his son was about to tell him, Alec Joseph Stilinski would not abandon his son, he would stand by his side until Stiles felt comfortable in his skin and body once more.

 

Hell, if Stiles wanted to become a girl Alec would give his son all the support he needed; Alec would find the best doctors to help his new-daughter find clothes _she_ would like to wear and he would help _her_ find a name that would sit well on his second-daughter.

 

`I’m g-g-gay.´ the fear in his voice was frightful to hear, but accompanied by the thick layer of self-loathing made it all beyond frightful; Alec nearly released his hold and just stared at his son who started to apologize for being what Stiles called a filth-faggot and an abomination.

 

Releasing the hold of the hand and framing the face that held so much of his beloved wife, Alec Stilinski told his son to shut-up and for once Stiles did go completely silent, with fearful eyes he stared up at his father who had to take a few deep breathes before he could speak without shouting at his son.

 

`You are not an abomination. And I will not hear you say that about yourself ever again, you hear me Stiles?´ feeling a tightness in his heart Alec allowed his forehead to touch his sons and he took a moment to calm himself before speaking again, `You are a wonderful boy, and whoever you chose to love is one lucky son of a bitch. I love you Stiles, and if you’re gay then I’ll be more than happy to walk around town and any gay pride in the great United States of America wearing a t-shirt that reads; My Son Is Gay So Deal with It or I’ll Arrest You.´

 

`R-r-really? ´ Stiles asked while shuddering like it was all too much for him to take.

 

Alec nods as best he can, their foreheads still attached and his hands still resting against the sides of his beautiful boys face, and with a little smile he had to ask his son for one thing, `But please, could the t-shirt not be pink?´

 

The disbelieving and hopeful laughter that escaped his son had him hugging Stiles tightly, because having a gay son was the best news he could have gotten after all the terrible thoughts that had crossed his mind; having a gay son was easy to deal with, on hooked on crack or meth wasn’t.

 

~*~

 

It wasn’t hard to figure out what had happened between Genim Stilinski and Peter Hale, not with how many men Gerald had watching the pack and the boy he was interested in. Gerald had the entire family watched in order to know when to strike, he knew Christopher didn’t appreciate his new found interest in life and well dear-Kate found the boy appealing although she had been a bit disappointed with Genim’s sexual-orientations; but that had never stopped Kate before.

 

Walking all knowingly through the corridor, a small smirk resting peacefully in his face as all the pieces were finally falling into place all he need was to do secure the boy. Without Peter Hale there would have no hope for Gerald to attain that which he desired.

 

 _I should really send a thank you note and a basket of fruits to him,_ Gerald thought while a very devious smile rose upon his face, a smile he could feel stretching out over his face like an evil mask he quickly removed, it wouldn’t do to frighten the child.

 

Gerald walked straight to young Stilinski’s room the nurse that was on the Argent’s payroll had kept an eye on Genim, and she had handed all the medical-records regarding the boy which held a lot of the answers Gerald had been waiting for. The room was small and dull, if the boy had been Gerald’s son this room would have not done at all.

 

Young Genim was sleeping soundly on the bed. There were a few cards and a balloon that tried to decorate the dull room, there were no flowers just a small teddy bear sitting on the windowsill and a stack magazines left abandoned on the chair by the bed. Gerald walked around the room gazing at the cards; Gerald wasn’t too surprised to find a card from the girl Heather and the school counselor, there was one from the Lacrosse team.

 

Gerald was pleased to find that the Hale’s had kept their distance from the boy, well for the most part the family had kept their distance to the boy although it had been aided by a few helping hands courtesy of his subordinates; there had only been three members of the retched family that hadn’t sent Stiles cards even their youngest member had sent a ugly little drawing that was supposed to represent Cora and the boy holding hands.

 

After looking at the cards Gerald took his seat in the chair, and made himself as comfortable as possible which was in the end impossible but still he carried on like the soldier he was; he spent the following half-an-hour grading papers while waiting for the boy to wake-up.

 

Gerald laid his papers away as soon as the boy began to stir, he watched as the child turned on the bed mindful of his bandaged arm, but at the sight of his tears the boy started flailing badly enough to have Gerald up and out of his seat to keep the boy from falling off of the bed; Gerald gently grabbed the boy gently and settled him back on the bed before carefully tucking the lower-limbs under the covers, doing his best to play the part of a carrying parent or grand-parent.

 

`Wh-why are y-you he-here?´ the boy asked but still took the offered cup of water Gerald offered him, Gerald held the cup for the boy and watched with fascination as the boy drank through the straw, there was something surprisingly obscene in the way the boy used the straw.

 

`I was visiting a friend, ´ Gerald lied skillfully while waiting for the child to drink away his thirst, `and thought I should come and see how you were faring.´ Gerald placed the cup down on the table by the bed, and sat back down on the chair, `I thought you’d like to talk to someone about what went on between you and Mr. Hale.´ The boy lost all color from his face while the hand of his undamaged arm fisted the covers.

 

`I’m rather concerned about you Mr. Stilinski, ´ Gerald said while making himself as comfortable where he sat while trying to appear less like the hunter he was and more like a concerned teacher looking out for his favorite student, `From what I’ve managed to catch Mr. Hale talking about with his friends,´ the heart-rate picked up at that, `he was using you to gain access to his uncles computer,´ the boy turned his head away from the direction of which Gerald was sitting at, and closed his eyes as tightly as possible.

 

`You don’t need to tell me what he did to you, not unless you want too.´ Gerald stood up from where he was sitting when the boy tried to dry away the tears that were starting to escape him, he sat down at the edge of the bed and pulled the boy into his arms; the thin figure struggled at first but then the child surrendered and Gerald made sure his hug was everything from protective to gentle and at the same time firm and unyielding.

 

`Oh, dear boy, ´ Gerald said gently while rubbing the trembling back, `it’s alright. You’re going to be alright.´ and as the trembling hand fisted his shirt, Gerald smiled because the child was holding on to him like he could save Genim Stilinski’s soul and perhaps Gerald could.

 

With time, with some help, Genim Stilinski might just join the Argents war against the supernatural beasts walking around the streets of Beacon Hills.

 

 

 


	19. A Blank Mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Suicide, the attempt of it, the aftermath of it be it a true attempt or not, always leaves far more scars than one can see.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What can I say? We get a little Stiles, we get a hint of Gerald, and a bit of Derek and Talia Hale, as well as a little taste of Peter and Thomas Hale.

It was awkward being back at school, where the overall opinion people had was that Stiles had tried to off-himself, he could pin-point the people who pitied him and those who wished they had enough balls to do what Stiles had done (even if he hadn’t even tried to end his life), Stiles also found out that some people thought it would be funny to leave notes in his locker encouraging him to successfully end his life; his particular favorites were the ones with the most creative ways with which he could cut his useless life short; of course not all notes were encouraging him to finish the job he had supposedly started, some were telling him life still had so much to offer him while others felt the need to remind him how God disapproved of such things as ending the life he had created. By the end of the first-day back at Beacon Hills High School Stiles started to throw the notes he found in his locker without looking at them.

 

But it wasn’t only the notes and cards shoved into his locker that tried his patience.

 

Perhaps being back at school would have been a bit less trying if it wasn’t for Derek Hale who was a constant reminder of what an idiot Stiles had been for trusting Derek and his uncle. There werewolf was hovering around as always, but never close enough for Stiles to tell him to fuck-off or to punch him in the face.

 

Because Stiles loved his sister, he did not give her reason to break-up with Derek although he was rather tempted anytime he saw Derek.  

 

School might have also been a less trying for Stiles if Paige would have granted Stiles a little bit of distance and freedom, since he got back home from the hospital Paige and their father had become almost unbearable; Stiles’ room had been ransacked and  not only that, but the bathroom door was without a lock. Paige had locked away all the knives that were sharp enough to slice skin, she’d also hid away all the scissors and even the tweezers which was all rather pointless as Stiles could easily break one of the thin sheet of glass that protected each framed picture or simply one of the mirrors around the house, not to mention all the other ways he could end his life without slicing his skin and bleeding out. Of course Stiles held his tongue on all the ways he could have End it all, his life had already turned into a prison of sorts why make it a high-security prison?

 

Stiles had thought he would be given some freedom at school but he had been wrong as Paige continued stalking him, during lunch Stiles ended up sitting across the table from his sister and an unhappy looking Derek Hale; it was almost as if Stiles not being dead had insulted the werewolf, and Stiles almost wanted to remind the asshole he could thank his father for that, but Stiles was not talking to Derek and Derek was not talking to Stiles.

 

And then there was Gerald Argent, who kept him in after class for a chat which Stiles thought was focused more on reminding Stiles he had been used by Derek Hale. It hurt, like a knife in the heart to hear Gerald repeat the information he had given at the hospital; and when Stiles was about to tell the man he had not forgotten what he had said Gerald moved from behind the desk to stand in front of a still seated Stiles.

 

`I’ll let you in on a little secret Genim.´ there was something in the way the older man said those words that told Stiles that this was going to be some serious shit, `The Hale’s aren’t human.´ Stiles nearly chocks on his tongue, `But I’m sure a clever young man like you have figured as much.´

 

`I think you should also know, that my family are hunters.´ the moment Gerald brought up what his family were Stiles felt himself grow terribly nervous, was he going to be forced to tell Mr. Argent everything he knew about the Hales; could Stiles do the right thing and not do that?

 

`Oh, dear boy, don’t be afraid.´ Mr. Argent said voice all kind and reassuring, `I’m not going to ask you anything about the dealings you had with the Hale’s, but if you ever want to talk to me about them or anything else that weighs heavily on your heart then I will listen. I promise I will listen to anything and everything you want to talk about.´

 

Stiles can’t trust Mr. Argent because of what Derek had told him about hunters; yes, some hunters followed a coed but others had an open-season sort of mentality when it came to werewolves. Just because Stiles hated Derek and Peter, although more often than not Stiles found his heart betraying him when it came to Peter, did not give Stiles the right to risk the lives of all the other Hale’s.

 

`I’ll k-keep th-that in m-mind.´ Stiles says voice hollow and empty, just like he was.

 

Mr. Argent sighs and shakes his head before speaking yet again with that strange voice that never appeared during class, a voice that almost lulled Stiles into a false sense of safety, `Good. I just want you to stay safe Genim. Running with wolves is a dangerous thing, so take care.´

 

Stiles felt a cold shiver pass through him and as he stood up from where he had been sitting, he replied to the statement, `Th-then it’s a g-good th-thing I’m n-not r-r-running around w-with w-w-wolves, is-isn’t it.´

 

`That’s good. I wouldn’t want _them_ hurting you any further Genim.´ Mr. Argent said, sounding just like Stiles’ dad when he had asked if Stiles really was ready to go back to school and Stiles had said he had to face the crowed sooner rather than later, his dad had then with the same sort of I’m-worried-about-you sort of voice that also carried in it But-I-trust-Your-judgment said, `I hope you’re right son.´

 

`You and I both.´ Stiles said as he walked out of the classroom, hoping he wouldn’t be late for Econ or Coach Finstock would have his head.

 

~*~

 

There had been a time when Derek would never have imagined missing Stiles Stilinski, never thought not being able to talk to Stiles would making him feel so lonely; he still had Paige and he still loved her, but Stiles was Stiles and he knew what Derek was and that was refreshing.

 

Derek was allowed near Stiles as long as Paige was there. Derek was allowed to speak to Stiles only if Stiles drew him in to the conversation; which Stiles did not. And the leaving Stiles alone and not talking to Stiles policy had made it impossible for Derek to corner Stiles the moment the boy had left Argent’s classroom, to tell his friend that what the old geezer had said was true to some extent but that Derek actually liked and cared for Stiles; hell, Derek would have told Stiles all about how much his family missed Stiles.

 

But Derek couldn’t and that made his blood boil, because it wasn’t right none of what had happened was right.

 

Feeling angry and frustrated Derek slammed the front-door of his family home so hard that he knew everyone in the house knew he was home, the smaller kids that had been in the den yelped and scurried off to hide at the sight of the half-wolfed-out teenager.

 

`Derek Matthew Hale!´ Derek rolled his eyes at the displeased sound his mother was sporting as she came walking into the room, for the past few days Talia Hale had been as volatile in nature as Derek and her eyes were glowing Alpha-red.  `What’s the meaning of this? ´

 

Derek could tell his mother’s control was cracking but he didn’t care and so he screamed at his mother, `Argent is getting all buddy-buddy with Stiles and filling his head-up with lies and...´

 

`ENOUGH! ´ Talia roared at her son and it had Derek go still and quiet like a good little puppy.

 

`I have no time for this! The gathering is taking place within a few-days and I have yet to find a location for it. We have more pressing matters than your feelings of guilt Derek.´ his mother growled at Derek who bared his throat and it seemed to do the trick because the glowing red eyes turned into those that Derek had started to call motherly, and with a sigh his mother walked over to Derek and hugged him tightly and nuzzled against the dark locks of his hair before asking Derek to give Stiles time.

 

`Trust him to see through the lies.´ his mother said before pulling away from Derek, with a gentle hand combing through Derek’s hair the way that always had him almost purring like a cat, `He would do nothing to harm us, that much I know and we have no reason to think Argent would harm him.´

 

`We trust the Argents now? ´ Peter’s voice and sudden appearance at the top of the stairs had Derek baring his fangs and glaring at his uncle.

 

`Keep your nose out of this Peter.´ the Alpha growled, glaring at her brother like she did more often than not these days.

 

`Sister, they are hunters and hunters can’t be trusted.´ Peter said as he descended the stairs, and Derek imagined how funny it would look if Peter had to do it without the use of his legs.

 

`The Argents follow the coed.´ Derek’s mother snapped up at her little brother before turning to look at Derek, her hand gently stroking the side of his face, `Derek, Stiles forgave you once and I’m sure he will do so once more – just give him time and _trust_ him.´

 

Peter snorted at that and Derek felt and smelled the wrath in his mother rise, but instead of attacking Peter she shouted out, `THOMAS! Time to have a work out with Peter.´

 

Derek couldn’t hide the smile that came to life when he saw the fearful look on Peter’s face, the pure look of dread in the cold eyes was strangely satisfying.

 

~*~

 

Thomas Hale watched as his son came running through the woods, he almost felt like rolling his eyes much like his mate did but instead he simply huffed in annoyance at the sight of the foul mood his son was obviously in; in Thomas’ opinion Derek should have been grateful for the punishment Talia had given him, considering how Thomas would have stripped his son from all the pleasures of the life he was living, Talia had been ridiculously soft when it came to her son. Thomas frowned as he watched his son disappear from sight and instead returned his attention to changing the sheets of his marital bed Talia preferred fresh and clean sheets although Thomas fancied them more when they were slightly used, when the scent of his mate and his own scent mixed into a wonderful scent that was so potent that it made other cringe but it would have him humming with joy; but his mate was under strain and so he changed the sheets, each day he would change the sheets if need be twice, for he loved his mate enough to do such an unmanly thing as changing the sheets and making the bed with great care.

 

When the downstairs door slammed shut, the framed pictures lining the old dresser collapsed and it made Thomas growl because if any of them had been damage he would personally make the teenager pay for it, as made the bed he listened to the enraged roar coming from his dear Talia; she had been in a foul-mood all day, even breakfast in bed hadn’t soothed her much, the usual trials of being an Alpha had never worn her thin but it was whether she admitted it or not the situation with their Stiles and _Peter_ was the true reason why her emotions of anger were right on the surface; the deep anguish she felt for the crime Peter had committed and the lack of justice she had been able to give Stiles, letting Peter go easy was a heavy burden to bare even if Talia continued to insist it was the right thing to do for the pack.

 

Thomas didn’t agree with his mate, he would have banished Peter and his unfortunate mate, he was sure the Hale’s could survive any move the Wallis’ might make. But Thomas’ wasn’t the Alpha and never would be, for he lacked that something that would have granted him the power and right.

 

Thomas blocks out the arguing between mother and son, Alpha and Beta, and instead moves over to the dresser and begins to straighten out the framed pictures; he had imagined that one day there would have been a picture of his youngest daughter and Stiles smiling happily eyes alight with joy and love, perhaps another picture where one or both were holding one child if not two. Thomas shook his head at the little fantasy, they would be fortunate if the boy ever returned to them, if Stiles would ever be willing to accept them as anything more than another half of his sisters family; it was clear Derek was convinced that Paige was his mate.

 

Thomas had just finished placing collection of family pictures back where they belonged, when his mate called out to him and oh how he welcomed the message; he hadn’t had a go at Peter yet, and he was really looking forward to breaking Peter’s leg ones more.

 

Thomas loved the sound of Peter’s bones breaking. Thomas simply enjoyed the screams he could fish out of his brother-in-law. Thomas hurried out of the master bedroom and as he jumped down the last flight of stairs and placed his hand on Peter’s neck and squeezed in such a fashion it told the other male that his was soon going to be in a lot of pain.

 

`Hey there Pete, let’s rumble.´

 

Thomas enjoyed the smell of dread and fear that came off of the man had mistreated the boy who should have meant nothing to Thomas, a human boy that had charmed his way into Thomas’ heart even after he had seen humans cut several of his brothers in-half, Stiles was nothing like the humans he had ever encountered; the human boy was full of sorrow but behind it all was a promise of loud joy and laughter, Stiles was also kind and helpful, clever and full of sass, and not to mention the wonderful sarcasm that had Thomas laughing loudly.

 

He missed the boy.

 

When he had found the boy slowly dying in a small bathroom all alone and with a bitter stench of tears of desperation, Thomas had thought there could never be anything more painful to witness; he would still dream of that moment, but unlike in reality the dream always ended with Stiles dying in his arms while they waited for the ambulance to come. The dreams always ended with Thomas waking-up covered in sweat and his heart racing like his life had been the one threatened to end; when Stiles had been allowed back home Thomas would run over to the house and climb the tree just outside the window of the bedroom that was small and sad but still Stiles’, he would sit there and listen to the heartbeat for ten or more minutes before heading back home and crawling back into bed next to Talia who surely knew where he had gone.

 

With his hand firm on the back of his brother-in-laws neck; sharp claws pricking the skin, Thomas guided Peter outside through the back-door. He could feel his wolf eager and ready to show the Beta how little they cared for him; Thomas had in the beginning simply beat the werewolf to the ground until unconsciousness had saved Peter, he had ripped and torn into the flesh of the younger werewolf without mercy until Peter had been an unrecognizable mess, Thomas had clawed into Peter until he reached the bone before biting down hard enough to snap the bone like a twig.

 

He had enjoyed the mindless way he had tried to calm the rage and sorrow within him, but soon he had taken a more creative way of making Peter suffer just yesterday right after breakfast Thomas had broken both of Peter’s legs and each leg had four-lovely-breaks, but the Alpha’s mate hadn’t simply broken the legs no he had wrenched the right arm out of its proper place before moving on to breaking the arm in two places. Once Thomas had left Peter on the ground all broken and bloodied, telling Peter to find his own way back to the house; leaving Peter to crawl by the use of his one good arm through the mud and dirt like the worthless scum he was.

 

During each session Thomas would make sure to make it clear to Peter how little he cared for the younger man, he did so not only by the way he broke the skin and the bones but by vicious words that he was sure would have made Stiles proud of his skillful use of words; Thomas hated Peter, if he could assure Stiles’ return by decapitating Peter then he would have done so in a heartbeat.

 

`Don’t worry Pete, ´ Thomas smiled a sharp fanged grin as he took the werewolf into the forest, like a dog that needed to be put down, `I’m not going to break your arm today.´ Tightening his hold of Peter’s arm he says with a promise in his voice, `No, I will snap both your legs and then both your arms so you can worm your way back into the house.´

 


	20. Shop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He found comfort in the strangest of persons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the shortness of this chapter, I even had to call my Dove to ask if it actually was this short, the piece of paper (phone bill to be precise) that had the joy of being the page to this chapter just felt wrong but she confirmed my fear but hey… please do try and enjoy it. See you soon I hope.

 

 

Stiles kept looking around expecting to find either his dad following him or Paige, this was his first-time out of the house without either Paige or his dad around to keep an eye on him, granted it was only a quick run to the shop for some milk and eggs.  Stiles had felt relieved to be allowed out of the house without having someone right there to make sure he didn’t jump in front of a car or something else drastic to end his miserable life. Not that Stiles was planning to end it, he might fantasies about it every day but after seeing the devastated look on his father’s face when he came back too at the hospital was enough to keep Stiles amongst the living.

 

Stiles had been all excited about going to the shop, the prospect of freedom slowly coming into sight, but as soon as he was through the doors of the store the feeling began to crumble like a great tower of old. The feeling of being watched by all the other people in the store washed over him drowning all feelings of excitement, Stiles also could hear the whispers; whispers about him. It took everything in Stiles, every need to prove to everyone and himself that he wasn’t as broken as the overall opinion seemed to be.

 

Stiles made his way around store picking up the eggs and the milk while also grabbing this and that, heart racing far too fast and knees feeling a bit weak. He tried to focus only on what he was doing and not on the people that seemed to be looking at him oddly or the low whispers and nervous coughs, he tried to ignore the way his body was reacting to the situation; his hands were clammy and was sure that if there were werewolves around they would have smelled how absolutely fucked-up he was. It wasn’t an easy thing fighting off the urge to drop everything he had gathered and running out of the store, but somehow Stiles managed to stay in the shop long enough to reach the end of the road without having a panic attack.

 

Stiles had just finished paying for the groceries and smirking at the half-panicked look on the bag-boy’s face when he noticed who’s groceries he was packing, Hudson was a senior at Beacon Hills High School and he had more than once pushed Stiles down to the floor at school but who had for the past week avoided Stiles like the plague, when a familiar voice caught his attention and had Stiles going all pale and cold. All feelings of success and the little bit of pride were sucked out of him leaving nothing good for him to grab and hang on too until the worst of the feelings were gone.

 

Stiles did try and avoid turning towards the direction of the familiar voice. Stiles could tell by the sound that Peter was inches away from starting to laugh and that made Stiles feel like his heart was about to shatter, and being the masochist he apparently was Stiles turned to look over at Peter.

 

Stiles stopped breathing and just stared at Peter and the woman who had to be his mate, both of them looked happy and proud as they were talking to a man about the same age as Peter. Both of them looked so relaxed, and both of them seemed to almost be glowing.

 

Stiles had imagined something more when it came to the woman Peter was destined to spend the rest of his life with, she wasn’t as beautiful as he’d imagined her to be and that was a rather disappointing revelation even if Stiles wasn’t even half as pretty as she was. Her voice from what Stiles could make out was nice but still nothing special, but unlike Stiles she didn’t stutter and she talked with confidence and skill which he lacked; her smile was sure and she was clearly comfortable in her skin. But no matter how much Stiles just wanted to dissect all the differences between him and her, ignoring the obvious one being she was a she and he was a he, Stiles attention drifted towards the person to whom he had given his first kiss too; and not to mention to whom he had given his body too with the trust that Peter loved him.

 

His mother would have been terribly disappointed in him. She had always told him to wait until he found someone who loved him as much as he loved them; she hadn’t lied to him about his father being her first, but she did confess how she regretted wasting her firsts on people who hadn’t deserved them.

 

From what Stiles could tell Peter Hale was happy, Stiles could tell the werewolf he had loved and whom he still loved even if the thought of still being in love with him made Stiles ill, was happy with his mate and did that not just feel like a knife in the heart.

 

Stiles wished he could have at least looked less shitty, he was thin as he struggled each day to eat without being sick right after each meal or snack, he wished he was sleeping more so the bags under his eyes weren’t the sizes of sturdy little pugs, Stiles wished he could have enough strength to at least pretend he wasn’t all broken and now destroyed by the sight of how good Peter looked. Stiles wished that hadn’t been taking in each detail of Peter when the werewolf caught wind of him and turned to glare at Stiles like he was something absolutely disgustingly worthless. It was that look that finally had Stiles running out of the store.

 

He leaves the groceries there all paid and packed, but he simply doesn’t care because all he can think about his how he is slowly dying while Peter gets _everything_.

 

Stiles didn’t get far until a pair of hands grabbed him and pulled him into a tight embrace. Naturally Stiles struggled against the gesture of comfort and support from arms and body that were unfamiliar, but when the fight left him all Stiles seemed to be able to do was to let go; he sobbed against the chest of the person that had seen fit to stop Stiles from simply running off to God knows where. It was only when the comforting person spoke that Stiles realized who it was that was holding him tightly in the middle of the parking lot.

 

`Shhh, it’s alright. Just get it all out.´

 

Gerald Argent. Stiles mind almost stops crying at the realization that it’s Mr. Argent’s hand at the back of his neck and that it’s Gerald Argent’s hand that is rubbing his back gently. It was such a strange thing to find his French teacher comforting him, telling him that he was going to be fine.

 

Stiles feels like he shouldn’t allow this hunter to hold him and comfort him.  But there _was_ something strangely comforting about being held firmly when he felt like nothing and the older man allowed him to cry, he stood there patiently holding Stiles telling him he could cry for as long as he needed. And for once Stiles didn’t try to keep his tears from escaping.

 


	21. Lost Child

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You may have almost all you could wish. But without that one person, that one soul that fits yours like a glove, that one person who is family without being invited to be, there is a giant hole that makes the Grand Canyon appear like nothing more than a crack. Without that one person, there isn’t everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not sure what to tell yah, other than we have Talia here, Thomas whom I love, little Cora, Derek and of course Stiles.... that's all.

 

Sunday dinner was over and done, and through the gathering of pack and family Cora had been sulking and throwing tantrums like her very young life depended upon it. Derek had barely spoken a word after Thomas let it slip that maybe if Derek had been a better friend to then perhaps Stiles would have joined them for Sunday night dinner, but the murderous glare Thomas had been sporting at that time had not been directed at his son but at Peter who kept up his façade of everything being fine and dandy; that was one of the reasons Thomas showed no mercy when it came to Peter. Laura had also been unusually short tempered that evening, snapping at Paige when the girl had asked Laura about college life and how it was treating her.

 

Even dinner lacked that special something that usually made each meal delicious and homely, it was as if Abigail hadn’t put her heart and soul into preparing the meal. Richard was unusually silent where he sat, the chair that usually was occupied by Stiles during Sunday dinners was not there between Richard and Thomas; in the beginning Stiles had been seated next to his sister and Laura but once it became clear to Talia that her husband enjoyed the company of the human boy she had him moved to sit next to her beloved. Even if there wasn’t a visible gap at the table, none the less there was one.

 

And it wasn’t just her pack that was suffering from the lack of the Stiles’ presence at pack gatherings; the child had carved perhaps unknowingly a place for him within her pack. Talia Hale did not simply suffer because of the way her pack did, Talia suffered as much as her pack did _because_ she too missed the boy whom she had welcomed to her house with no thoughts of ever truly growing attached to the human boy.

 

Talia missed the way Stiles could slip into any conversation with ease as if he had always been a member of the Hale-family, and if tension would arise the human boy was quick to smoother it out with a funny little slip of the tongue and with his laughter that always rang so loud and bright even the grumpiest of moods could shatter. The Alpha missed the way Stiles hugged her when arriving, and she missed the way he’d hold her just a little bit longer before leaving.

 

Talia of course didn’t admit this longing she held, to anyone, not even Thomas but she suspected he knew from how many times a day she sent him after Peter.

 

Talia Hale missed the curious boy more than she had ever imagined herself capable of doing. 

 

~*~

 

Thomas Hale had been trying to sooth his unhappy daughter for the past five minutes, Cora had been screaming about wanting to go with Paige, wanting to see Stiles it took some force to keep the little girl from escaping Thomas’ hold. Both Thomas and Talia had explained to their youngest long before Paige’s arrival that Stiles would not be joining the, but Cora’s stubborn nature refused to accept the claim as true and so she had dressed herself in one of her finest of dresses and had her sister help her with her hair so she could impress the human boy. When Paige then did arrive without Stiles the first of a long line of tantrums hit with a force that had not yet been experienced by the Hale-pack; and the tantrums would break for brief moments before coming back with full-force as Cora was reminded by something someone said or the lack of a smiling Stiles sitting on the floor admiring Cora’s newest toy or like during dinner the lack of Stiles at the table.

 

It had been emotionally exhausting for Cora as well as Thomas to live through the gathering, and as he walked around Cora’s pretty little princess room cradling her like the little girl she was, feeling her tears soaking his shirt Thomas wished he could just drag the boy back to their house and keep him there chained like a family pet until Stiles came to his senses; because he couldn’t wish that they had never met the funny little boy who had sadness in his eyes even when he laughed with all his heart, Thomas could never wish they hadn’t met Stiles Stilinski because he was pack at least in Thomas’ mind, he was family whether Stiles accepted them or not.

 

Thomas missed their little talks, he missed the way Stiles was full of curious little facts, and he missed the way Stiles talked with his entire being; at first his wolf had been on edge over the constantly moving limbs, until the realization that the boy meant no harm by it sunk in. Thomas missed teaching the kid how to drive because it was the only time there were no others around just him and Stiles; the privacy giving Stiles the courage to open up a little to Thomas who did not judge him or try and force his advice down the young throat.

 

Thomas missed the trust the boy seemed to have when it came to him. There was something about the way Stiles trusted him that made Thomas trust the human boy; and Thomas did not trust humans, unless they were turned.

 

The way they boy seemed so very open to spending time with Thomas, a werewolf who had killed enough humans to make his toes and fingers unable to keep up with the number, but this boy was not one who’s blood he wished to spill. Thomas missed the way Stiles would at times just hug him, desperate arms holding on tightly because of something that had triggered a memory of his mother, or just the fact that seeing Talia with her kids reminded Stiles what he had lost; when Stiles had told him about his mother Claudia, Thomas had felt honored by such a sign of trust.  

 

Thomas missed the way he could make Stiles laugh out loudly and so brightly without much effort, they shared the same sense of humor and he needed not push around with words for Stiles to catch up; at times he had wondered if they had a telepathic n between them, but that thought had shattered when he found out about what Peter had been up too with Stiles, if there had been such a connection then Thomas would have known about what Peter had been doing to Stiles and he would have been able to put a stop to it at once.

 

Thomas shook his head trying to get out the image of Peter using Stiles in ways which Peter had no right too.

 

Thomas had failed Stiles, they had failed Stiles. As Peter’s family they should have known what was going on between him and Stiles.

 

Thomas should have protected the boy from Peter.

 

Thomas looked down at his daughter, he loved Stiles as much as he loved all his children; even Derek even if Thomas was disappointed in him right now. Thomas looked down at his little girl who had calmed down enough to drift off to sleep. The stench of sadness and anger clung to his baby-girl as much as the scent of tears she had been spilling did.

 

With great care not to disturb his little princess Thomas placed Cora on her bed and tucked her in with the tender love and care he wished he could show Stiles, he watched her for a minute before walking away to have another round of training with Peter; his claws were itching for blood, Peter’s blood to be precise.

 

Until _his_ funny little boy was back where he belonged Peter would be spilling his blood to appease Thomas rage.

 

**~*~**

 

Abigail Hale threw the rest of the flavorless Sunday dinner into the trashcan under the kitchen sink, usually Stiles would have been there helping her with the dishes but since her youngest disgusting behavior towards the poor boy Abigail was left to wait for some random member of her family to come to her aid; Stiles never complained when they washed the mountain of dishes thesedinners left behind, they would talk about this and that mostly about her youth and she took great care of keeping out the werewolf part of her life, other times they would sing to the radio but washing dishes was never a toll to bare when Stiles was around.

 

When Talia had told her about what had transpired between Stiles and Peter, Abigail had nearly had her very first heart attack. When the first wave of disbelieving shock had washed over her the tears broke through; she had never imagined her son to be such a monster, and she could not even bring herself to imagine the damage Peter must have done to the adorable human boy. Since the terrible news had settled in her mind, she stopped showing Peter the affection she had once felt towards him and treated him with the same coldness her Alpha did; she could not even bring herself to look at him anymore.

 

Abigail shook her head as she looked over at the mountain of dishes. She hoped the food had been better because she had sent some over to Stiles with Paige, the girl had tried to lie to Abigail that Stiles was eating and doing fine; but Abigail had heard the lie in the fine beat of Paige’s heart when she had asked how Stiles was doing and if he was eating enough and taking care of himself.

 

Abigail had seen the boy when he was nothing more than skin and bones, then she had seen the way Stiles had slowly began to gain enough weight to be considered healthy; and now she was left to wonder of poorly the boy was taking care of himself.

 

Abigail couldn’t help the feeling of dread that clutched at her heart as she thought back to the boy, Paige was in no shape to take care of Stiles and neither was his father. Someone like Stiles needed a large family, a family that could wrap him up in love and affection; a broken man and a teenage girl just didn’t have the time or understanding to support Stiles the right way.

 

When Thomas had brought the news about what Stiles had tried to do, smelling of Stiles blood, Abigail had howled the child wasn’t a werewolf and couldn’t there for respond to her call; Abigail spent many sleepless nights thinking about Stiles, thinking about what she would say or do once she was allowed to see him. Abigail had tried to visit the child at the hospital, but she had not been allowed near him.

 

It was difficult to imagine never seeing the human boy again. And she wished Stiles could one day see it in his heart to return to her and her family because she missed him.

 

Abigail Hale missed _her_ Stiles. She missed the adorable boy and his loud laughter.

 

**~*~**

 

Derek watched as Paige made her way up to the Stilinski house but even if he was watching his slightly anxious girlfriend Derek was actually listening to the heartbeat of her brother. The heartbeat told him Stiles was upset.

 

The heartbeat was taunting him, haunting him, making Derek feel like he finally understood the meaning of the The Tell-Tale Heart but this heart was not imaginary but very real and still equally unattainable as the heartbeat underneath the floorboards.   

 

Stiles was alive and that should’ve be enough, but it just wasn’t enough not anymore.

 

Derek could be near Stiles but still be as far away from him as the ocean was deep. It hurt to see Stiles every day, to hear his heartbeat and smell his familiar scent, and still Derek was not able to touch or talk to Stiles. Derek missed the way Stiles could make him laugh, he missed the way Stiles would talk with his entire body and soul about topics he was passionate about (which seemed to be everything Stiles ever talked about), he missed the clever little jibes he threw at Derek and even the little nicknames he blessed/tormented Derek with.

 

Derek spent every day wishing Stiles would finally break the silence, hoping for Stiles to talk to him or even scream at him anything really to break the silent barrier that stood between them.

 

The silence was cruel and hateful but so was seeing Stiles almost every day. It was a cruel thing to be forced to watch as someone you cared about, someone that was loved by the one your heart belonged too, withering away into nothing but a ghost; into a grotesque phantom of someone you could hardly recognize.

 

Derek wanted to help Stiles find his spirit once more, to get Stiles back, because Derek missed his best friend. Derek wanted to be sure that Stiles wouldn’t be tempted to end his life once more. Derek wanted to be able to convince Stiles that there was so much more to life than Peter. There was a whole world outside of Beacon Hills waiting to see the brilliance of Stiles Stilinski.

 

But Derek could not talk or see Stiles or give him the comfort he rightly deserved, all Derek could do was wait and see what the future would hold.

 

**~*~**

 

His heart ached. His entire body ached. He couldn’t keep his mind on anything but the Hale’s for longer than three or so minutes before he was back to thinking about the family his sister would one day join; a family Stiles would never be a part of.

 

Stiles missed Abigail’s wisdom and the way she struggled not to slip out the truth about her and her family. He missed Talia’s quiet strength that had given him comfort and helped him settle down when he was restless or anxious. He wished he could sit with Cora and play like he too was just a little boy unaware of the trials of real-life. And Stiles hated not spending time with Thomas who had thought him how to drive and had promised to take Stiles fishing after he had let it slip that he’d never done that before. Stiles missed Laura’s cheek and tales about college life. Stiles missed Richard and his mate and their excitement when it came to such topics as history and especially that of Beacon Hills. He missed all the little Hales, even if those closer to his age thought him odd.

 

And even if he could no longer trust Derek Hale he still missed him, Stiles missed just sitting around talking or playing videogames with Derek, he missed learning about werewolves from him. He missed having someone to talk too about school and stuff, someone who was a guy and understood certain things better than girls could.  

 

And no matter how much he had hurt Stiles, used him, Stiles still missed Peter Hale so much that when he thought about the werewolf he could hardly breathe. Stiles missed the attention and the affection the relationship had given him. Stiles missed talking to Peter, he missed the long conversations that would have bored others that shared Stiles age; he missed the way Peter had stimulated his mind.

 

Of course Stiles understood that what he was missing, yearning for, had never been real. Mr. Argent had helped him see as much; Stiles had been nothing more than the means to an end, Stiles had been used, and like that pathetic idiot he was Stiles still wished he’d been allowed to stay ignorant to the fact.

 

Stiles wished he could still be the sad idiot that imagined himself important to Peter and the rest of his family, for him to still be ignorant to the truth.

 

As he cried into his pillow, Stiles wished he could still live in the blissed-out fantasy of a happily-ever-after with Peter and the Hales; but he couldn’t. The Happily-Ever-After was reserved for Paige and Derek not Stiles and Peter.

 

Hearing his sister returning home after another Sunday dinner with the Hale’s had Stiles hoping he had been allowed to bleed-out on the bathroom floor; he wished Talia hadn’t been so worry about how Stiles ending up dead would affect the Hale’s image in Beacon Hills, or how Stiles death could damage Paige in some sort of way which would equally detrimental to Derek as it would be for the Hale-pack.

 

Stiles wished he could hate the Hale’s with all his might, he wished he could just destroy them all like Peter had done to him; but there was just two glitches in that destructive want and those were Paige’s love for Derek and Stiles' love for the Hale’s. All Stiles could do was for something to happen to truly make his love for the family to die, or for him to just drop dead one day.

 

 

 


	22. The Last Page of Paige

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> `I love you. I love you. I love you.´ Derek said with loud sobs breaking through as he held Paige thightly, trying to keep her from leaving him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now comes the whole lot of not accurate thingy. But I do think I did warn you that this fic doesn’t really follow the timeline TW has; if you haven’t already figured out the AU thing by now then I wish to know if I need to call a doctor for you? This is a crappy chapter, but try and withstand it with the knowledge better chapters are on their way.  
> Now I should warn you about the characters jumping up in this chapter; we’ve got Ennis peeking out from behind a tree,

 

Derek knew something was wrong even before he reached the Stilinski house. A sickening feeling had started to infest him long before he took off to make sure Paige was okay. He ran as fast as he possibly could, and when the stench of death whispered into his nose Derek pushed himself forward with all his might; he had only one thought in his mind at it was to find Paige and make sure she was alright.

 

The moment Derek reached the Stilinski House, the smell of death and decay hit him hard and with one thought in his mind he breaks through the Stilinski’s front door not carrying if it was locked or not; he imagined from the smell that Stiles had finally done it, ended his young life and he was sure he would find a devastated Paige sobbing over the lifeless body off her little brother.

 

Derek can hear as soon as he enters the house the tell-tale sounds of someone in excruciating pain, it’s a sound he has heard only twice in his life-time and he had wished never to hear the sound that contained nothing good. With uneasy steps he tracks the smell of death to the kitchen from where the uneasy sounds were coming from.

 

He expects to find Stiles dead or dying, but what he finds is Paige who was splayed out on the floor. Derek throws himself down on the floor next to the girl he loves the moment his mind catches up with what he is seeing. He pulls her rigid body into his arms, and as he moves her an unfamiliar smell sneaks up and off of her clammy skin; an unfamiliar Alpha had left his vial scent over Derek’s wonderful mate.

 

Although Derek touched Paige with feather-light touches they are still enough to cause her to cry out with agony, his touches appear to only intensify the excruciating pain Paige was already in and she begs him to stop.

 

Derek Hale knows what’s going on, his wolf knows what’s happening to their mate and both of them are heartbroken because this strange Alpha had given Paige the bite and her body was rejecting it.

 

The bite had killed her.

 

Derek tries to make Paige as comfortable as possible while begging her not to leave him, unable to believe everything he is doing is causing her harm, but everything he does is just torturing her and soon enough all Paige his able to do is to beg for him to give her a more humane death; and as the minutes passed and Paige’s pain increases Derek knows what he needed to do for his mate.

 

Derek loves Paige far too much to just leave her to suffer a death most horrible, and because he loves her with his entire heart and soul he does the one last thing he may do for his loved one, with tears in his eyes and a breaking heart Derek ends Paige’s life and as the beautiful life slips from the pained body Derek whispers words of love and affection; he swears he will always love her and he promises Paige that he will take care of Stiles.

 

As the life escapes from his beautiful mate Derek howls his sorrow while clutching what was left of the wonderful girl that had stolen his heart and soul.

 

~*~

 

Deputy Alec Stilinski had just finished his shift when the call came, a call that would change his life forever. The news the sheriff brought him had Alec speeding towards his house, praying and begging to every God he knew to spare the life of his child; he begged for God to take him instead of his daughter because dear God he can’t live through losing his baby-girl.

 

There is no way Alec can handle Stiles without Paige. There is no way he can hang on to life without his baby-girl.

 

When he sees the ambulance parked with the lights that would tell him there was still hope dark and still, he barely parks the car and runs towards the house screaming his daughters name like if he screamed loud enough she would answer him; when two of his coworkers try and keep him from going inside the house the panic hits him and he just screams for his daughter, and if the corner hadn’t arrived then perhaps he would not have punched the lights out of Miller and Brennan who’s knows breaks from the punch.

 

Screaming for his daughter Alec runs into the house that had held such promise when he had bought it, he runs into the living room calling out to his daughter and moves through the small dining room the table that told him Paige had invited someone over for dinner, he hurries into the kitchen which suddenly felt so cold and underneath his shoes the shattered glass crunches. From where Alec standing he has the perfect view of his little girl who looked did not look peaceful where she lay on the cold floor of the little kitchen. There was no doubt about her passing, for there was no healthy glow to her pale skin, her lips were an unpleasant color he had seen far too many times on the dead he had come across due to his profession and the loss of his wife.

 

The second time in his life Alec Stilinski was forced to see a member of his family show the less serene side of death. And as he stares down at the child he had held in his arms for hours after her birth, refusing to let her go and whispering promises into her tiny little ear as she slept in his strong arms that promised her protection; he had promised her to always be around, he had promised her he would love her to the day he died never thinking he would outlive her, he had sworn and oath to her to always watch over her.

 

Seeing his once vibrant and brilliant daughter left on the cold floor of a kitchen she had made homely, breaks Alec Stilinski completely.

 

Seeing his baby-girl dead and gone, realizing his daughter had been dying inside the small kitchen all alone, destroys something within the man who breaks down in loud sobs pulling the lifeless body into his arms.

 

When it is time to let the corner to take Paige from him and the house, Alec fights them with tooth and nail because he can’t just let them take his baby-girl.

 

 

 


	23. I See You On Your Knees

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The ice-cream was melting, and Stiles could only cry and scream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m a horrible person. I’m a disgusting person. But aside from that I should warn you all that (I love the fact that I can warn you people about these things unlike with my friend who still hasn’t forgiven me for a few things) that there is due to my friends wish for none-con (although it was supposed to be when Stiles was still a virgin) and so in this chapter Stiles will be assaulted…. Please don’t kill me.

Stiles walked out of the store, flinging his backpack on his back shivering slightly as the coldness of the ice-cream seeped through the backpack and his hoodie and several layers of shirts he was wearing, it shouldn’t have been such a noticeable thing considering how Stiles felt cold like all the time and wore several layers of clothing in attempt to keep warm. Stiles fished out his phone and sent a quick message to his sister telling her he’d just got out of the shop and would soon be heading home, even if Paige had agreed with giving Stiles some freedom there was still a leash attached to him.

 

With the message sent Stiles slipped his phone back into the pocket of his hoodie and started towards his slightly battered up bike, while digging out the set of keys that would free his bike from the pole that held half of a traffic-sign.  While he unlocks the locks he thinks about how his first-year at High School was drawing to an end, only a month and a half left, the prospect of loitering around the house and the poor excuse of a garden for the long months of summer did not thrill Stiles at all. There had been a time when he would have spent most of his summer days with Scott or at camp, but this year there will be no Scott and because of financial issues caused by all the visits to the hospital and the new house Stiles can’t even head to a camp where he could pretend to live a different life.

 

Stiles was just about to get on his bike and head home when he felt the sudden jerk from behind that had him off of his feet for what felt like several minutes but was only seconds, he was about to let out a scream when a firm hand grasped around his windpipe causing only a slip of a pathetic sound to escape from him. Even in a state of panic his mind kindly supplied a few details of the unknown assailant; one thing was sure the person had incredible strength, and the second thing was that there were claws drawing blood and the finally thought was that he was in the hands of a werewolf.

 

Stiles tries to fight, he tries but seeing as he’s been made unable to supply his brain with precious oxygen the fight leaves him quickly as unconsciousness sweeps in; the last thought that slips through his mind was whether or not he would ever wake-up again.

 

When Stiles wakes up, he finds himself on the ground and it takes a minute for him to recognize the empty lot with the crumbling building with the brick façade, a building that was to be torn down for the sake of a far more modern structure. His head was hurting and the right side of his face feels like it’s been scraped down to the bone, he’s being manhandled like he’s nothing more than a worthless doll Stiles can feel something pressing against his skull while rough hands with sharp claws shred his clothes and binds his arms and hands behind his back so tight that it has Stiles crying out but there is something stuffed in his mouth.

 

It doesn’t take long for Stiles to get where this is all going and even with the filthy cloth that tastes like blood and oil, Stiles screams and tries to struggle against the person stripping him naked on the cold ground, the pressure on his head eases as the person moves to pin Stiles to the ground with the weight of his body bulky body.

 

And it is a _he_ and not a _she_ that is made clear by the hard member pressing against the crack of Stiles’ ass.

 

_Please God no;_ Stiles cries out a scream into the fabric in his mouth that feels like it might chock him at any given moment. This was something Stiles had never imagined would actually happen to him, this was something that didn’t happen to you but someone else.

 

`Shh, little one, ´ the voice whispers with a false tone of tenderness, `I know you want it. I know you’re desperate for it.´

 

Shaking his head and screaming for help, begging for the werewolf and it _is_ a werewolf to stop and leave him alone, Stiles is forced to into a position he had only once before been in and that had been on a soft bed in a fancy hotel-room with the man Stiles had though loved him.

 

`So pretty, just like he said you’d be.´ are the last words the werewolf said before pushing himself inside Stiles’ less than willing body forcing out a loud scream, he screamed until his throat felt raw and broken.

 

Their bodies are so close together you could have easily mistaken the two as one, but Stiles would do anything not to be in such a position, to not be there but at home.

 

The monster speaks with an almost blissed out sound in his voice, `Fuck, Peter was so right about your tight little ass.´ The words that fell from the beasts mouth has Stiles going completely still and silent, he is so shocked that he doesn’t even start screaming when the pain of being raped with ruthless trusts start, each push and pull tearing at Stiles without mercy. All he can think about his the name said.

 

`Such a fucking slut for me aren’t you baby.´ the giant of a man says as he picks up speed, clawed hands sinking into Stiles shoulder and hip, claws sinking deep and drawing blood, `Peter told me you would be. Oh fuck. Yes.´ 

 

Stiles’ mind drifts off as the truth sinks into his mind, as the betrayal settles in him leaving him feeling empty and worthless. And as the stranger continues to tell him things like how Stiles had been so eager to go off and get fucked, by Peter and that has Stiles crying once more because he had been desperate to please Peter.  

 

`You’ll be so good for me, won’t you baby.´ the monster says as he changes the angel of his trusts making them more painful for Stiles, the werewolf starts to pant loudly promising to take Stiles away from Beacon Hills; promising Stiles a life where he could be fucked daily, because Stiles was a good little slut and needed a cock up his ass and down his throat to be happy.

 

Stiles shakes his head, and goes back to screaming for help because he doesn’t want the life the werewolf is promising him, he can’t live a life where this would be a part of his everyday life.

 

`I need to send Peter a thank you note.´ the monster says punctuating each word with a hard trust, `Thank him for giving me his little toy.´

 

Stiles screams out his despair into the cloth blocking the sound into a muffled version that was drowned out by the things the werewolf raping him was saying between grunts and moans, `I’ll fuck you, I’ll fuck you so good every fucking day of your life, baby boy. You’ll always be open and ready for a cock, won’t you baby? ´

 

The thought of chocking on the piece of cloth seemed like the better option considering what the werewolf was offering him, and as the werewolf tells him all the things he would do to Stiles who begins to try and swallow the cloth.

 

The gunshots startle Stiles into silence they stop Stiles from swallowing the cloth down his throat. The heavier larger body that had been abusing him stops in the middle of pounding back into Stiles abused hole, the werewolf doesn’t make a sound but the monster does however collapses on Stiles. If he wasn’t panicking before he is now as Stiles feels like he is being crushed like a bug, it’s so familiar that it terrifies him and he starts to struggle but it’s of no use the werewolf is much too big to even give him an inch.

 

Stiles can barely hear the running feet coming towards him; he can barely hear the voice calling out his name, because all he can hear are the muffled and crushed scream Stiles was creating in his frantic state.  

 

The weight rolls off of Stiles suddenly. When the member that had been tearing Stiles a part from the inside slips out of aching ass, Stiles begins to chock on his vomit. And if it wasn’t for the quick actions of the person who had come to his rescue Stiles might have ended up raped and dead, chocked on a filthy piece of cloth and drowning in his own vomit, the stranger had the cloth out of Stiles mouth within seconds and supported Stiles as best he could while cutting Stiles arms and hands free from the bounds.

 

Freed from his bounds Stiles turns to look at the beast that had violated him so brutally, and what he sees as his blood running cold and it is not the gruesome head wound or the blood that has Stiles heart racing with a new surge of shock and disbelief. It’s all enough to have him dry heaving for several minutes.  

 

Stiles had seen the now dead werewolf before, just yesterday to be precise near midnight. Stiles had seen him talking with one Peter Hale, they had been standing outside the house Stiles was living in; but when Stiles blinked the two had been gone and he thought it nothing more than a trick of the light and his anxious mind. But now after everything that had happened, he was no longer sure if it indeed had all just been a hallucination. And how could his mind come up with a person who looked exactly like the werewolf who had attacked Stiles?

 

`Stiles. Stiles.´ the familiar voice of Chris Argent reaches through the thick fog of the ever rising emotional turmoil that was throwing him into loud sobs and panicked screams.

 

`Stiles. Stiles look at me. Look at me Stiles.´ Stiles can hear the younger Argent demanding for Stiles’ attention, and the more demanding the voice became the calmer Stiles became.

 

The moment Stiles locks his eyes with Chris Argent’s Stiles knew that the younger Argent wouldn’t just let Stiles go before he was sure Stiles wouldn’t do something desperate. Seeing how someone so stoic like Chris Argent didn’t see him as something disgusting, had Stiles reaching out and as if on knowing what exactly Stiles needed Chris pulled him into a tight hug, and Stiles didn’t fight him because he needed to feel something that wasn’t violating or hateful.

 

~*~

 

Chris Argent wasn’t too happy about what Gerald was doing, having their men watching a child without good reason, was just madness. He didn’t agree with his father when it came to not reporting Peter Hale for statutory rape, they had proof of what had happened between the boy and the werewolf and Gerald decided to sit on it giving no reason for his actions to do so. Still if Gerald thought the boy might be in peril then Chris had no other choice than to follow orders.

 

Stevens had left before Chris was able to get to the parking lot of the store the young Stilinski used frequently. Finding Sevens gone wasn’t all that unbelievable considering that Chris was at least five minutes late and Stevens was one of those people who’d not wait for anyone. So with a sigh Chris settled in for the following five hours until he was set free by his sister Kate, as he sat there looking around the parking lot he noticed a bike and a backpack discarded not too far from the store.

 

`Shit.´ Chris cursed loudly before hurrying out of the car and towards the bike, he prayed he was wrong and that the kid was still in the store that the familiar backpack belonged to another unfortunate soul Chris searched through the backpack until he found what he was looking for, the wallet was small and rather typical for a boy of Stiles Stilinski’s age; the library card had Chris pulling out his phone while trying to figure out which direction he should head off to in search of the boy.

 

He knew that a lone Alpha was in Beacon Hills, he’d come for the meat and greet that was meant to take place tomorrow night, Chris couldn’t see any other reason for said Alpha to take the boy but to give him the bite and use the Stiles as leverage against the Hale’s; the Alpha had to know how attached the Hale’s seemed to have become when it came to the boy, the Hale Alpha’s mate was seen more often than not looming outside the Stilinski house or climbing up to Stiles window.

 

Chris cursed as he tried to come up with an area the boy could have been take; he knew that if the attacked was a werewolf (which he firmly believed it was) the beast could have easily ran far with Stiles in its arms, but Chris’ gut told him that this was not the form of action the Alpha would take. And so he began to think of places nearby that could work for the werewolf as a place where he could turn the boy.

 

They would need privacy, a place where the Alpha could keep and force the child to submit.

 

Chris shuddered at the thought of the Alpha giving the boy a bite, Stiles would most likely refuse the offer and then the bite itself; the boy would die a most horrible of deaths. Chris took off towards a direction that felt right and in his ear he heard Gerald’s voice which startled him slightly as he had forgotten about trying to call the head of their family.

 

`Christopher.´ Gerald said with a cold and distant voice, it alone told Chris that something was wrong but there was no time to ask what had happened because Stiles was in danger.

 

`He’s been taken.´ is all Chris says as pauses by his car and grabbed his favorite gun, before running off to hopefully save the boy before it was all too late.

 

`Where are you? ´ Gerald asked and Chris could tell he was on the move.

 

`Where Stevens left him.´ Chris hissed, while heading towards the direction of one of the old buildings that had been condemned for the sake of something more modern. 

 

`Don’t do anything stupid Christopher. This might not be werewolf related.´ Gerald said, and Chris could hear the door slamming shut at the other end of the line, `We’ll be there in ten minutes.´

 

`Sure.´ Chris said before ending the call and running as fast as he could, he wasn’t going to wait for Gerald or back-up because by the time they’d all gathered and made a plan the boy might be dead.

 

When Chris reached the empty lot behind the building he had decided to head towards he heard a voice, talking and what was being said had Chris’ blood running cold.

 

_Oh, God no,_ Chris thought as he heard the promises the werewolf was saying, because he could not bring himself to believe that Stiles would consent to being fucked in such a place and Chris wasn’t too convinced that Stiles’ would appreciated dirty-talk at this stage of his young life.

 

When Chris sneaked through the crack in the cheap wall surrounded the lot, the thing he saw made his blood boil and without warning Chris aimed at the werewolf’s head and one...two..three..four.. five bullets escaped the barrel of the gun and the monster collapsed dead and gone from the world.

 

The Alpha collapse right on top of the boy, and Chris knew at once that the beast was large and heavy enough to crush the boy, so he ran to help the boy. It took some effort to roll the beast off of the naked boy, and Chris had never seen anyone as broken as Stiles seemed to be. If he could Chris would bring back the werewolf and make its death a much slower one.

 

Chris focuses his attention to the boy, who continues to shatter before him. Chris could not understand how life had decided to throw the boy such horrible card.

 

~*~

 

Gerald Argent sat in his private chamber, at the old desk that had been passed down from one generation of Argent’s to another, it was old and heavy with plenty of hidden compartments; the wood was old and dark, scratches here and there as well as the odd few scorch marks, Gerald liked the old desk as it reminded him of how unmovable he had to be in his decisions.

 

The ice shifted in the glass, he rarely drank whiskey only on special occasions such as this. The night had such wonderful promises.

 

Scattered on the desk were all the various documents on the Stilinski boy, there were information on his early years and all the information his men had gathered on the boy. Genim was weak and soft now but could be forged into something intimidating by someone as skillful as Gerald was, his body might never be forged into something visibly strong and intimidating but there was a spirit in the boy that Gerald could see.

 

Gerald had, honest to God, he had tried to bring the boy into his fold in the most natural of ways but the Hale’s had reached into the boys heart and stolen it for themselves.

 

There for drastic measures were needed.

 

When the phone rang a smile passed over his lips, but when the voice on the other end wasn’t his son he grew tense, Harper was on duty and not on call tonight, `Harper? ´

 

`Deputy Stilinski’s daughter, ´ Harper said his voice barely loud enough to break through the sirens.

 

`What about her? ´ Gerald asks taking a slow sip from his drink.

 

`She’s dead.´ Harper said voice low and sorrowful, he was a father to a sixteen-year old girl who had some similarities with the Stilinski girl.

 

Gerald fell silent he had wished no harm on the girl and when Harper told him that it was a death not natural, Gerald knew at once what Harper was trying to tell him. Gerald almost cursed as the man on the other end of the line gave details of the wounds; and Gerald knew at the moment Harper explained the details of the bite that the Alpha Ennis had gone astray.

 

`Keep an eye on the father.´ Gerald said while pinching the bridge of his nose, and then without waiting for Harper’s reply he ended the call.

 

Gerald looked down at the documents and hoped this tragedy would not harm his plan, and then he thought it was good the girl had died and not turned into a monster because the boy would side with his sister in a heartbeat, might even ask for the bite. Now with the death of Paige Stilinski, a death caused by werewolves there was hope.

 

The second call came and for a moment Gerald hesitated answering it, what if it was Harper with unwanted news or what if Chris was calling him to relay the information that Ennis had turned the boy? He would put a bullet in the boy himself rather than let him live a life as a monster.

 

With a few more rings Gerald was finally able to answer the call without revealing that he had but a moment ago been gifted with tragic news, and it was tragic news because the child had been even with her mistake of falling for a beast a sweet girl who had kept her brother from slipping away; Gerald needed now to truly insert himself in the young Stilinski’s life in order to prevent him from trying to join his mother and sister in the afterlife.

 

Gerald would need to feed a burning fire into the boy that would keep the boy going.

 

`Christopher.´ Gerald said, taking another sip of his drink, the time had come.

 

Gerald had sent Chris to look after boy instead of Reno because he knew what Chris would do to Ennis once he found the Alpha, his son would end the werewolf without giving the animal a chance to speak; and Ennis couldn’t speak or carefully constructed plan would crash like a poorly constructed building.

 

If everything went as planned Chris would end the Alpha as well finally realize that leaving Genim as he was would be nothing but detrimental for the wellbeing of the child, if everything went according to plan Genim would give himself to their cause and forsake the werewolves; if everything went Gerald’s way he would have a new soldier in his ranks.

 

But if everything went terribly wrong the boy would end-up dead and that was something he was not willing even ponder; he had been looking for someone to replace Chris for his son was not the man Gerald had imagined him to be, Chris was rather a disappointment considering how well his sister had turned out.

 

 

 

 

 


	24. Shattered

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Broken once you can glue it back together again. Break it twice the still a chance. Break it trice there is nothing left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What can I say about this chapter.... nothing really. 
> 
> Next chapter has the funeral of Paige Stilinski.

 

There was nothing that could describe the feeling of disgust and loathing that washed over Gerald Argent as he and his men drove over to the abandoned building that stood gloomy and dark on the patch of land Chris had sent Gerald after they had arrived at the small parking lot, the empty car had enraged Gerald but when the message rang and the address was given he brushed away all other feelings, but at the sight of the boy Gerald had been after for months the feelings washed came back and he felt ill.  Chris was holding the Stilinski boy and the only thing that gave the boy any shelter was Chris' jacket, and that covered very little revealing the ugly cuts and bruises that marked the skin.

 

The marks on the pale body hadn’t healed which meant that the boy had not been turned and for that Gerald was eternally grateful.

 

The look in his son’s eyes told Gerald that Chris would now keep the boy close, protect him, and that was not what the older hunter wanted; if Chris protected the boy then Gerald might not be able to gain a new soldier. He looked at his son who had grown weak, like Chris' mother had. Gerald turned his attention away from his son and focused on the child in his arms, the boy looked ruined beyond repair; ut Gerald might just be able to rebuild on these ruins and create a great legacy with the aid of the boy.  

 

`Christopher.´ Gerald said with a short nod, three of his men start to clean up the mess Chris had made. It was clear how none of his men were comfortable enough to look at the broken child.  

 

`How is young Stilinski?´ Gerald asks as he crouches down before his son and the boy.  Chris tightens his hold on the boy, eyes filled not with wrath but sorrow which proved to Gerald how Chris was not strong enough to take become head of the Argent-family after he was too old to keep up with the younger hunters or if he was killed by the monsters he hunted.  

 

`He raped him.´ Chris said with a low broken voice, holding the boy close, the words made Gerald sick but he would not show it. Instead of showing how ill the news made him. Gerald  gave a controlled nod and told his son it was time to go; they needed attend to wounds that littered the young body.

 

`We need to take him to the hospital.´ Chris said as he got up on his feet, the fact that Chris didn’t struggle when lifting the boy made it clear that the child truly needed people to take care of him, obviously the father was incapable and would be more so now that the daughter was gone and Gerald would be more than willing to take the boy under his personal care.

 

`I agree.´ Gerald said as he had seen more than once the damaged a werewolf could do to a human body, and he didn't want to lose the boy to death.

 

As Chris settled in the back seat of Gerald’s newest car, the boy was startled awake and at first the boy fought against Chris' hold in blind panic which was a terrible thing to see even for someone like Gerald Argent. Chris held the boy tighter, holding the boy so that young Stilinski could neither hurt him or himself. Chris kept trying to sooth the boy with gentle words but they had no power over the boy, who only stopped fighting when he wore himself out ending up laying there in Chris' lap and arms, eyes wide and fearful. 

 

And as soon as the boy settled Gerald took charged, ignoring Chris who didn not think it was the time for them to come up with a story to tell, but the Genim Stilinski agreed to play along with the story Gerald was creating for them to tell; to hear the boy give in was pleasing to the old hunter, who believed then and there that he was on his way to get what he desired.

 

As soon as they reached the hospital the boy was taken away from Gerald and Chris, even though the two Argent's protested loudly against strangers taking the boy away from them but being neither family nor friends they were left to without rights. Soon Harper arrived to take their statements and relaying information about the situation with the Stilinski-girl and Deputy Stilinski.

 

Chris looked absolutely shocked by the news of Paige’s death, his hands running through his hair as he tried to handle the news that might just push the boy over the edge. Gerald had to admit he was equally worried about the damage the evening might have caused the boy but unlike Chris the older Argent saw a light at the end of the tunnel.

 

~*~

 

Sheriff Stilinski was standing by his daughter’s lifeless body, holding her cold hand in his and wondering how he had lost Paige in such a horrible way. Had he not been around enough? Was this a punishment for all the late hours he worked?

He had lost his wife and now his daughter within a short passing of time. Alec Stilinski was now left with a son that was in the lack of a better word brojen; a son who had not been there to save his sister although he should have been there.

 

**Genim should have been there.**

 

Anger flared in the man’s heart at the thought of Genim being off somewhere laughing while his sister lay dying in their kitchen. Why was it always Genim that caused destruction to their family? If it wasn’t for his son then he’d have a wife and a daughter. Hell he might even have a better son than Genim if Genim hadn't been a twin.

 

The almost timid knock on the door startled the Deputy out of his thoughts, he glared at the Sheriff who was soon to retire, the man looked pale and a part of Alec knew that there was even more bad news to come and so he braced himself for what new tradgedy would fall upon him.

 

`What now?´ Alec snapped, his hold of his daughters hand tightening, the staff had been quick with gathering evidence and cleaning his girl up for him to see; perks of working in a  town where there was an almost holy-union between the three forces that cared for the people of Beacon Hills. 

 

`Genim was brought to the emergency room.´ the Sheriff said as he walked over to the grieving father, the man seemed to almost tremble before Alec who said nothing allowing the other man to continue talking; a part of Alec wished Genim was just dead and not in a shape that needed more stays at the hospital, because if he had to be honest he was exhausted with the drama that followed his son.

 

`He was assaulted by an unknown assailant.´

 

The words should have shocked him, Alec knows this. The words should have sent him in an uncontrollable rage where he should have demanded the head of the bastard that had hurt his son. Or he should at least be heartbroken and demand to be allowed to see his little boy. He should be in a hurry to see his son, to make sure he was alright. Instead Alec just sighed, he knew he had to go to his son or it would reflect poorly on him and so he made  his goodbyes to his beloved daughter with tears in his eyes, because he didn’t want to leave Paige there alone and cold but he had too.

 

The Sheriff lays his hand on Alec shoulder, a gesture of comfort and support but which gives Alec neither as they make their way through the long dull corridors of the hospital; while they walk the Sheriff gives Alec the details of what has happened to the boy and Alec should be outraged that anyone had attacked his son but he feels nothing but the grief left behind by the death of his daughter.

 

~*~

 

Stiles has curled up on himself by the time his father arrives in the room, he'd been sedated but the nightmare had drawn him awake, he had survived the gathering of evidence and the questions asked by various people. There was a sad looking woman sitting by the unfamiliar bed, she tried to smile at him but her smile was as broken as Stiles felt, she said nothing and did not move until his father arrived.

 

When his father finally comes into the room and sits down, Stiles knows something has changed in his father; he looks broken and tiered, and oh so angry.

 

`D-d-daddy? ´ It hurt Stiles to talk, his jaw was sore and his throat felt raw.

 

`Paige is dead.´ the words fell bitter and angry from his father’s mouth, and the glare he shoots at Stiles tells the boy that his life is from now and forever changed; he tries to reach out to his father to give comfort and seeking it, but his father makes no move to take his  hand not even when Stiles whimpers, `Daddy.´ 

All his father says to him is, `You should have been there.´ and Stiles knows what his father means to say is that Stiles should have been the one to die and not Paige.

 

And Stiles agrees. Stiles agrees 101%.

 

Without another word Stiles turns his back to his father and cries into the uncomfortable pillow, ignoring the sting of the stitches that keep his flesh together; there are so many of them and there are some in places that had no business being stitched up, but the stitches are not the problem being alive is.

 

The fact that his father makes no attempt to comfort him has Stiles sobbing even louder, which only has his father walking out of the room and leaving him alone to suffer through a panic attack that sneaked over him as the door closes; it doesn’t take long before the room is flooded with doctors and nurses, but none of them can calm him down or drain out the feeling of abandonment.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's all hug Stiles NOW.


	25. Dig Me A Hole In The Ground

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No amount of tears or sweet words can bring back the dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My Dove had asked for the funeral of Paige to be in the story so here it is. I will admit to you all, she was rather disappointed in it, so don’t expect too much.

 

The funeral of Paige Wladyslawa Stilinski was a solemn affair that took place at mid-day on a bright Sunday only a week after her departure from the land of the living. The little chapel was decked with candles and the fine flowers Paige had loved in life; the light of the candles gentle and sweet while the flowers fought back the stench of death and sorrow. The chapel was packed with students from Beacon Hills High School although most had not known her well enough to have been mentioned in passing as “friends” or “aquantances” of the dearly departed, there were also a few friends from Paige’s life before Beacon Hills. There were so many people there to show their respects that there weren’t enough seats for all and so some had to remain standing in the back of the chapel, families held their little ones on their laps to give room for a few more souls in the pews.

 

The white casket stood there for all to witness, the inhabitant wearing one of her favorite dresses and in her hair there lay delicate white flowers, while around her neck was the fine white scarf that had once belonged to Claudia Stilinski; her scent still lingered on the fine fabric. The unmoving hands held the necklace Alec Stilinski had bought for his darling daughter to give her on her sixteenth birthday; the heart pendant resting against the back of the unmoving pale hand. Underneath the hands and slender fingers that had held such talent and grace in life was a single red rose which Derek Hale had slipped carefully in under the palms; a rose stained with his tears.

 

After the usual words of Life and Death, God and the afterlife, spoken by a man of God who had never even met the teenage girl that had been stolen from life far too soon, the grief-stricken father stood up from where he had been seated.

 

With weak-kneed steps Deputy Stilinski approached the casket that held is first-born and only daughter; laying shaking hands on the coffin that would keep what was left of his daughter safe from the earth that would cover her far too soon. With a trembling voice, broke and raw, he spoke of the wonder that had been his daughter and in each word he spoke sorrow-rang and with tears in his eyes he said his farewells to his precious daughter.

 

The chapel lay silent through the words that were unrehearsed and unwritten, everyone showing their silent respect to the man who visibly grieved the passing of his daughter.

 

When Alec Stilinski returned to where he had been seated silent and in tears, his son rose with movements stiff and unbalanced, limping his way over to the instrument Paige had played with an abounds of joy and skill; taking an uncomfortable and clearly painful seat on the chair that had supported the fine instrument. Without a word the long strong fingers that hadn’t touch the strings of an instrument in over a year began to show how familiar they were with each cord, and the bow moved like there had been not a single day the boy hadn’t played or practiced the song that echoed off the cold stone-walls.

 

Not a single soul could recognize the beautiful music that vibrated through the chapel, there was no joyfulness or hopefulness in the music that was performed more for the departed than the living. There was not a single dry eye when the last sound of the cello that would never play again by a Stilinski ended.

 

Stiles Stilinski carried the bow to the coffin and placing it inside the casket before walking back to where he had been seated.

 

A few more words were said by the man who had a booming voice and who clutched to his God for dear-life in a world that seemed to have grown bored of God and church. But not a single word the man of God said gave comfort or healed the damage done by the sudden death of dear Paige Stilinski.  

 

**~*~**

 

The Hale’s sat a few pews behind the Stilinski’s all of them, even Peter and his mate although some members of the family would have preferred the two to stay away, if he had the strength Derek would have kicked his uncle out of the chapel but his grief had drained Derek as much as it had drained the Stilinski’s.

 

Derek sat between his father and mother, both holding tightly to each of his hands grounding him, keeping him from losing his hold of his wolf. Derek sat body hunched and tears streaming down unchallenged or halted. It took his all not to sob loudly as Stiles began to play, for each blessed chord brought back memories of days he had been given with the girl he had killed; if his family would allow it he would have confessed his crime, he would have walked up to the Argent’s and told what he had done. But confession could cause the slaughter of his entire family and so he remained silent, slowly drowning in his own sorrow.

 

Derek looked up at Stiles who sat uneasily on the chair by the casket, head lowered like in silent prayer, skillful fingers moving tenderly over the strings and the almost tiered movements of the arm and wrist that gave the bow the motion needed.  

 

Derek could not look at Stiles long for the boy was completely shattered and how was he supposed to heal that, how was someone as broken as Derek supposed to help someone like Stiles?  

 

**~*~**

 

The distance between father and son was so visible to Talia Hale that she could not imagine others not seeing it. She had also sensed a strange coldness surround the grieving father; it was so intense that it made her shiver even though the day was pleasantly warm. The man’s coldness was not directed towards her or her family, or any other person who walked through the heavy oak doors but it was directed towards the boy standing uneasily beside him as people drifted inside; and it made her want to either beat some sense into the man or simply take the boy into her arms and carry him away to her own home where there would be no coldness directed towards him only love and affection.

 

But Talia had no rights to try and take the boy away from his father not without some evidence of neglect and abuse.

 

Stiles seemed no more alive than what his sister was, he stood pale and fragile by his father’s side but there was a distance there that was alarming to her; Stiles looked thinner with cheeks sunken in there was such a gauntness to his appearance that she heard several members of her family gasp at the sight, the wounds were healing poorly perhaps from the lack of will to heal and survive that she could see in the eyes that darted everywhere.

 

Thankfully Abigail had decided to stay behind at the house with the little ones, or she might have just decided to take the boy away and keep him; she had struggled with not going to visit the human that had taken a hold of her heart.

 

When Talia moved to hug the boy Stiles had pulled away, something she later noticed he did when anyone tried to touch him. She frowned at his reaction but understood that what had happened to the boy was far too traumatic to just be brushed under the rug.

 

Through the funeral she sat holding Derek’s hand, but her eyes were on Stiles as while wishing she could have sat beside him and held him close to her; to give him the comfort he well-deserved. And as she watched the boy limp up towards the cello, Talia wished the hunters hadn’t killed Ennis so quickly for she would have gladly tortured the worthless piece of scum before impaling the man and leaving him for the crows to feed on.

 

Talia wished she could take the boy home, wrap him up in blankets and cuddle up close to him until all the hurt was out of his frail body, she wished she could heal and mend the despair that had taken hold of the boy but all she could do was watch him from afar and pray he would come to her seeking comfort and motherly affection.

 

Talia was shocked the moment thefirst chords vibrated a sound so very fine, and as the human child played she found her heart breaking, she could not imagine how much the boy was suffering; with tears in her eyes Talia listened to the unfamiliar music that reached deep within her soul.

 

Talia suffered alongside the boy that had become part of her family and pack, she was in agony because even as an Alpha she could not stop the pains that were slowly draining the life out of the gifted young soul.

 

Life was far too cruel sometimes.

 

**~*~**

 

It took all of his self-control not to wrap Stiles up in a tight hug. It took his everything not to reach out the child he could barely recognize. Thomas felt like his heart was breaking at the sight of the boy he loved like a son. For the past week he had gone through violent rages because of what the worthless Alpha Ennis had dared to do, Thomas couldn’t control himself as his thoughts were ruled by the harm that had been done to _his_ boy. That someone as worthless as Ennis had dared to even touch what was not theirs to touch sent Thomas into such violent rages that his mate and Alpha had to set him straight.

 

Thomas had wanted Ennis alive so he could rip out the filths innards and feed them back to him. Thomas wanted to make the Alpha suffer the same pain the Stiles had, but rather than soil his own member he would have used a broken branch. Thomas’ mind created wonderful ways with which he could have sought justice for his Stiles, only to grow wrathful when realizing that the hunters had stolen that right from him by giving Ennis a quick and painless death.

 

Even on the day as they made their way up to the old chapel that had originally been the first church of Beacon Hills, his mind had been riddled with thoughts of vengeance but seeing the Stiles so ruined killed all anger that had ruled him since the news of the horrors Stiles had gone through in the hands of the perverted-scum-that-was-Ennis. But the sight of his darling Stiles has Thomas feeling nothing but the feeling of inadequacy that came with his failure to protect what should have been his to keep safe and sound.

 

Thomas couldn’t help but feel incredibly useless at the sight of the hurt and sorrow that made the boy look so dwarfed-like; shrunken in on himself, barely visible anymore the light in his beautiful eyes snuffed out by a cruel act of fate. 

 

Thomas sat beside his son, holding his hand tightly in hopes to at least give the son that was of his blood some comfort when he was incapable of doing so to the boy he wished was his son. He watched Stiles, he did it so intensely that he could see the moment the father moved further away from Stiles like he was something disgusting and did that not just cause a growl escape from him; he watched as Stiles tried to ignore the feeling of hurt that flooded him when his father made sure there was a constant distance between them, and seeing the way it made Stiles break just a little bit more made Thomas whine.

 

Stiles needed a proper father. Stiles needed a father who would love him without hesitation or doubt. Who would hold him close and promise him the moon and the stars, who would promise safety from a world so cruel and cold.

 

If Mr. Stilinski were to stand-up right then and there and demand someone to take his son, Thomas would have jumped up and staked his claim at once; regardless of what Talia would say, they had enough room for one more child in their family.

 

So caught up in his own fantasy of taking Stiles in as his son, Thomas almost believed that time had come when Alec Stilinski stood up from where he had been seated but to the werewolf’s disappointment the rise had been for the sake of a speech.

 

When the father had finished his rather beautiful speech and returned to his seat Thomas found another set of whimpers escaping him as Stiles struggled to rise from where he had been seated, the father giving his son not a helping hand or a firm shoulder for support. It pained the werewolf to watch how difficult it was for the boy to move, how he visibly he flinched while sitting down on the white wooden chair. The smell of pain that came from the frail body as Stiles began to play was almost dizzying.

 

Thomas could sense the surprise that washed over almost everyone who had come to show their support to the grieving family, but to Thomas the talent Stiles was displaying in the moment of his grief was not a surprise as the boy had let it slip that he indeed had a gift for music; Thomas had felt so honored by the trust Stiles had shown him by sharing this unknown fact.

 

The music was beautiful in its melancholy. It was something so beautiful and haunting that Thomas would hear it playing in his head for days.

 

Thomas wished he could have done his job as a father (even if he was not the father of blood to the boy) and protected the boy from all the unnecessary hurt and sorrow. If Thomas ever was blessed to redo anything in his life it would be the part he played in not protecting the boy from Peter and Ennis. If Thomas ever got the boy back into his life he would do everything in his power to heal the boy, and keep him safe from all those who were unworthy of him.

 

**~*~**

 

Peter Hale had made his way towards the grieving father without much thought for the man who looked at least fifty-years older, while taking the shaking hand of the man he gave his condolences like he truly meant it. Once he had said the necessary words to the man who looked absolutely ruined, Peter turned his attention towards the boy he had seduced and used for his own pleasure; a boy who now looked nothing like the one he had wanted with his entire being.

 

Peter was thrown back by the person standing there like a ghost of sorts. The kid looked like one touch could break him entirely and turn him into nothing but dust for the winds to sweep away.

 

When Peter tried to offer his condolences the boy who had once given his everything to Peter, pulled away like anything doing with Peter would be too much for him to bare and survive. The fragile heartbeat that beat with a terrifying force told Peter to move on before the boy had a panic attack and that would surely send Thomas over the edge _again_.  

 

Peter took a seat next to his mate, holding her hand that rested on the sign of their union. Peter kept his eyes focused on the boy who had lost _everything_ , Mr. Stilinski might be alive but from what Peter could tell the man might as well been as dead as his daughter was from the cold-shoulder he was giving his only son.  

 

Peter found himself wishing that Ennis had just slit Stiles’ throat, death would have been the better option for the boy that the life he was now living; if Stiles had been a dog or rabbit he would have been put down to end his suffering.

 

As the boy staggered up towards the cello resting against the lonely chair by the coffin, Peter’s breathing halts and as the boy sits down and begins to play Peter regrets for the first-time going to Ennis. If he had known how badly it would turn out then Peter had kept himself from going to Ennis.  

 

Peter watches Stiles and wonders how long it will take before the boy breaks completely and they will be all back there, the boy in a coffin of his own all cold and lifeless; the thought sits unwell inside of Peter who squeezes his mates hand tightly.

 

**~*~**

 

Chris Argent hadn’t been too sure about going to the funeral, he wasn’t sure he could stand watching Stiles the way he was now; broken and empty, with a father who was cold and distant. But in the end he had to be there to show the boy he had at least one person standing in his corner, even if Chris had no idea what to do or say. Walking into the small chapel and seeing the boy who looked so small you could have thought him no older than seven-years old but who still looked like he was years and years older than what he truly was. It was shocking to see such a change in the boy within such a short passing of time.

 

His voice broke as he gave his condolences to the child, who tries to hide from the attention. Chris sighs and shakes his head as he walks away from the boy glancing over his shoulder at the boy before taking a seat next to a kid with floppy black hair and dark brown eyes, a kid who keeps asking his mother if it’s true that Stiles got raped until she finally gives a short nod, the answer drains all the color from the young face.  

 

Chris watches the two remaining Stilinski’s through the funeral, and it makes his stomach churn to see and hear the coldness directed at the boy who has done nothing wrong; a part of him wishes he could drag Alec Stilinski outback and just beat some sense into him while another part just wants to walk up there to the first row and sit down next to the boy, but he dares not for who is he really to act in such away?

 

So he sits in silence and watches the boy, hoping he’ll catch Chris’ eye and see how much the hunter cares for him, he wishes his eyes could tell the boy how he has a friend in Chris.

 

~*~

 

It pleases Gerald Argent to see such a visible rift between father and son; he can use it when the time comes to make a move on the boy. What worries him is the shape he finds the child in, all gaunt and lifeless even the corps of his sister appears healthier. The wounds have made little if any progress in healing. And the way the child moves tells him the aches and pains are severe.

 

Gerald dislikes the fact that the Hale’s have turned up for the funeral of a girl who should have been under their protection, it only shows how small their moral-compass is. Still he gives a short nod to Talia who barely takes her eyes off of the boy the Argent’s and Hale’s have had a small tug-of-war over the lovely boy.

 

The Hale’s had their chance with Paige, there is no way Gerald will allow them to have the younger Stilinski; Gerald will burn the Hale House with all of the Hale’s in it before letting the family of monsters to take away the boy from him.

 

The thought of fire and death has him smiling into his hand as he pretends to cough.

 

~*~

 

He’s so very cold. He hates the way people are looking at him. He hates the way his father looks at him.

 

Stiles wished he was in the coffin upfront instead of his sister. He wishes it so hard that it hurts and he knows from the look in his father’s eyes and the words he speaks that he too wishes it was Stiles in the coffin and Paige where Stiles sits.

 

When it’s his time to speak he does so with Paige’s cello, he sits down ignoring as best he can the pains in his body; his father didn’t allow him to take the pain-killers today because they make him sleepy, and so Stiles just has to bare it like a good little boy. The tears he spills as he plays are a mixture of sorrow and the pure agony he feels with each move he makes to create the wonderful music for his sister, he thinks about the brilliance she possessed and how much everyone loved her; he thinks about how she laughed and danced, the way she had found love. Stiles imagines Paige somewhere faraway, safe and without pain, talking with their mother about this and that.

 

He thinks about how he would gladly trade places with her so their father could be happy again. He thinks about the life she might have had with Derek; the pretty little kids they could have had, how she might have sometimes told her little were-babies about uncle-Stiles.

 

Stiles ignores the ache in his heart that demands him to stop, he continues strong and determined as he thinks back to their lives before Beacon Hills when he too was still loved by someone; when his father would pick him up on his shoulder carry him around like he was something to be proud off, or kiss Stiles’ goodnight after checking under the bed and in the closet for the boogieman.  

 

And as the last cord trembles out the ending, he looks over at his father that just glares at him before turning his gaze back over towards the coffin, and so with a lump in his throat Stiles gets up and carefully leaves the cello where he had found it and made his way over to the coffin; with trembling hands he places the bow in the coffin with his sister, like he had done with his own bow when the laid his mother in the ground.

 

With his head lowered he goes back to his seat, and for the rest of the day he makes no sound and avoids any contact with anyone, for he is not worthy of sympathy or kind words.

 


	26. Dream Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The nights hold no comfort for Stiles Stilinski, none at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a little piece of Stiles. It's short, sorry about that.

 

Stiles wakes-up screaming, kicking at the sheets around his legs they make him feel trapped and the panic rises until he hits the floor knocking out all the air from his body, he goes straight from screaming for help to crying against the side of his bed awake and aware of his surroundings; without sleeping pills nightmares came a frequent part of Stiles’ nights.

 

_Stiles was trapped in the wrecked car with his mother, he was hurt and scared because his mother was badly hurt but she was still talking to him voice labored and strained as she kept trying to keep Stiles talking._

 

_`Tell me about werewolves, baby.´ his mother was holding his hand although the grip was growing increasingly weak but before the touch turned ghostly the passenger-side door was torn open, revealing the terrible darkness that had been on the outside. His mother screamed as the clawed hand reached out towards Stiles._

 

_`Not my son. No!´ his mother screamed as the clawed hand grasped at Stiles’ throat, and before Stiles can scream for his mother or make a move to latch on to his mother he is pulled out of the car._

 

_Stiles screamed for his mother as he was dragged into the woods, everything was dark but he still knows there are in the woods, he screams for his mother and claws at the ground until the roots wrap around his wrists binding him to the ground. Everything was dark around him. He feels his clothes being ripped off of his body and then his ankles are bound._

 

_He screams for his mother, his father, he yells for Thomas and Talia Hale. Screaming so very loudly for even Derek and Peter while struggling against the roots binding him, but then he hears a familiar voice from within the darkness that surrounds him, `Such a pretty boy.´_

 

_` Peter?´ Stiles calls out into the darkness that is threatening to consume him whole. He blushes when he realizes that he was completely naked, not a single item of clothing to give him some sense of privacy._

 

_`Peter?´ Stiles calls out once more, while he tries to get free from the rough binds holding him in place._

 

_`You were so easy, Stiles.´ Peter says as he comes strutting out of the darkness wearing a toothy grin, and nothing more._

 

_There is such cruelty behind those words that have Stiles crying, and as he turns his tearstained face away from the werewolf. But clawed hands force Stiles to look up at Peter who is now on top of Stiles; licking away the tears that Stiles is unable to halt while sharp-claws pricking through his skin causing small beads of red to escape from Stiles._

 

_`Such a good little boy.´ Peter purrs as he pulls away, claws running down Stiles body all the way down to his ankles which are forcefully grabbed and placed over Peter’s broad shoulders, `So good for me.´_

 

_`Please stop. Please.´ Stiles sobs as Peter lines himself with Stiles entrance, but Peter doesn’t stop he pushes into Stiles body without a word of warning, and then with grueling pace begins to fuck the unwilling body. The ruthlessness is unfamiliar and has Stiles screaming bloody murder._

 

_Stiles tells the werewolf he had once loved that it hurts, he begs for Peter to stop, but Peter just laughs at him, `Whores don’t get to complain, do they slut?´_

 

_Then suddenly Peter lets out a howl and stops moving, a familiar expression on his face that reminds Stiles of better times in a fancy Hotel room. The without a word Peter pulls out and steps away from Stiles who just cries for his mother._

 

_`Are you done with him, or do you need a moment?´  a voice that makes Stiles screaming loud and to struggle even more violently than before, because that voice promises pain such horrible pain that he wishes never to experience again._

 

_`Yes.´ Peter says and now he is all dressed-up, grinning wildly at the werewolf moving towards Stiles, `You two enjoy yourselves.´ and with those words Peter is gone and the werewolf with the glowing-red eyes starts to maneuver Stiles onto his hands and knees._

 

_`Oh, you are such a pretty little bitch.´ the werewolf says as he spreads Stiles cheeks, `Such a pretty little hole you have whore.´ Stiles sobs out his pleads but the werewolf is either deaf to what Stiles is saying or doesn’t care, instead it rams its hard cock into Stiles body while growling out, `I’ll fucking fuck you until you_ _are all broken inside, because that’s how little cocksluts love it.´ and with that the beast starts to abuse Stiles with a sickening familiarity._

 

Stiles sobs even louder as the memory of the dream washes back over him, it makes him reliving the night when he was made aware how little he had meant to Peter. He cries until he can’t bring himself to do so anymore and forces his legs to keep him upright, he needs to use the bathroom and get something to ease the pain in his lower back. With unsteady steps he makes his way down the hall, the lights are on which tells him his dad hasn’t gone to bed yet or if he has he’s been too drunk to remember to turn them off.

 

Paige’s bedroom door is closed, it’s been closed since Paige’s death, Stiles’ dad forbids Stiles from even going in there to even place the few pieces of Paige’s clothes that Stiles had washed in the room; when Stiles had tried to do so his dad had lost it, at first Stiles had just been yelled at but then as Stiles opened his mouth to tell his dad he got the picture, well then his dad pushed Stiles against the banister which cause him to lose the grip of the basket and all the well washed and ironed clothes fell down the stairs; it of course angered his dad even more yelling at Stiles even more and pushing him around until Stiles lost his balance and fell to the floor.

 

At least that time Stiles didn’t get a slap across the face.

 

Stepping inside the small bathroom which held no sign of Paige, his dad had removed all of her things from the bathroom at some point before Stiles was released from the hospital. Stiles ignores all thoughts of his sister that threatens to take hold of him instead he focuses on feeling happy about no longer having to wear a diaper; the damage the werewolf had done to his rectum had been rather sever.

 

His dad hasn’t passed out in his favorite armchair, but the evidence of heavy drinking is there in the shape of a glass of whiskey lost on the floor the liquid long ago seeped into the fabrics of the rug, and the almost empty bottle of the liquid that made his father unrecognizable these days sitting on the coffee-table. Stiles picks up the glass and the bottle taking them into the kitchen, he washes the glass and dumps the bottle in the trashcan no longer bothered about recycling; the earth could go to Hell for all he cared.

 

The kitchen floor is perfectly clean, which it should be considering how Stiles had been on his hands and knees scrubbing it for nearly an hour under his father’s watchful eye before going to bed; his dad can still see the blood, he can smell it and because Stiles is the reason Paige died it’s his job to wash the floor until his father was satisfied at least once a day, even when Stiles body had been broken and he was forced to wear that fucking diaper he had been forced to scrub the kitchen floor clean of the blood he could not see.

 

Stiles grabs a glass of water and a pretty little pill for the pain, wishing it could numb him out to the world entirely. But it never does.

 

Walking out of the kitchen he turns off the lights as he goes before heading back upstairs, but he doesn’t go to his own bedroom straight away instead he walks into the bedroom his father sleeps in, removing his shoes and socks, stealing away the belt and unbuttoning the shirt he’s wearing before tucking him in with the old quilt at the foot of the bed.

 

`I love you dad.´ Stiles whisper against his father’s forehead before planting a gentle kiss there as if to seal the words, then he walks out of the room even if he’d rather curl-up next to his father; but he dares not to risk getting yelled at the first-thing in the morning.

 

As he walks past Paige’s bedroom he hears Derek sobbing, the teenager doesn’t know Stiles is aware of his visits and Stiles doesn’t feel like telling him to leave and to stop sneaking into his dead sister’sbedroom because he understands the sorrow Derek is in; Stiles might not be alright, but he isn’t entirely heartless.  

 

Stiles returns to his bedroom and crawls into bed, he lays there listening to Derek mourning, and soon Stiles slips back to another nightmare where he is raped by both Peter and the Alpha at the same time.

 

 


	27. Need You to Know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> People move on. Derek can see it in the way the walk through the Halls of Beacon Hills High School, Gerald sees it in the way people react, Stiles saw it when his father moved their small family into Beacon Hills. But sometimes moving on wasn’t that easy.

 

Getting out of bed wasn’t one of Stiles favorite things to do these days. His body was stiff and aching, the fresh bruises hurting with every move he took and without a good night’s sleep made it all so much worse.  Stiles yawned loudly while getting the sheets off of his bed, the stain and wet patch a reminder of how messed up his life had become. Dumping the sheets in the basket by the foot of his bed he began to grab the clothes he had worn yesterday, he needed to do some laundry that involved his clothes and not just his dads and the sheets on their beds, and hurried to the bathroom.

 

Stiles tip-toed past his father’s bedroom door, he really didn’t want to wake his dad up before he really had too and he _really_ didn’t want his dad to find out that he’d wet his bed _again_. Once in the bathroom Stiles jumped in the shower, these days he took quick showers so that if his dad wanted to take a shower in the morning there would be hot-water for him; he’d once made the mistake of dozing off in the shower and when his dad took his shower, well the morning ended poorly for Stiles because his dad hadn’t been sober enough to stop himself before the beating started.

 

After the shower Stiles took a look at the bruises that riddled his body, there were old and new ones, some from falling off of bed but others from his dad. Stiles tried to avoid looking at the scars that were so stark against his skin, some had gotten infected and one or two had opened up when the stitching’s failed.

 

`Come on Stiles, stop looking at them.´ Stiles told himself before brushing his teeth and getting dressed, once clean enough to look respectable even if his clothes weren’t exactly clean he made his way downstairs with the basket of laundry.

 

Stiles passed by the coffeemaker before heading down into the cellar where the washer and drier were, quickly he dumped the sheets and a few shirts into the machine and turned it one without much thought. He had to head back upstairs and change the sheets of his bed before his father noticed that Stiles had wet his bed again, and to be sure that the smell of his accident didn’t catch his father’s sense if he decided to go into Stiles bedroom for whatever reason Stiles left his bedroom window ajar.

 

With his sheets changed, Stiles hurried back downstairs, the coffee was ready and waiting and so Stiles made himself a cup before throwing together an omelet for his dad, he drank the coffee slowly not liking the taste that much but coffee kept him awake and somewhat of sound mind. With the omelet done and dumped on a plate, Stiles made his dad a large cup of black coffee placed it next to the plate on the small tray before heading upstairs.

 

The closes Stiles got to his father’s bedroom the more his hands began to tremble. This could either way go very well or very badly, if his dad hadn’t slept enough then Stiles might get an omelet over his head or a cup of coffee thrown at him. Stiles opened the bedroom door and walked into the room that smelled like stale whiskey and heavy sleep, his dad was snoring on his bed the covers on the floor and one hand dangling over the edge of the bed. The bottle of water and the aspirin’s next to it hadn’t been touched.

 

Stiles placed the tray on the bedside table, taking in a few nervous breaths before finally reaching out to shake his dad as gently as he possibly could. There were a few grunts before his father finally opened his bloodshot eyes and looked up at Stiles with a frown.

 

`B-b-breakfast.´ Stiles said before backing away from the bed, he was so nervous that he thought he might just have a panic attack right there in his father’s bedroom.

 

`Morning? ´ His dad asked, looking confused and dried up. Stiles gave a nod while moving over to help his dad to sit upright because it seemed like a good morning. And while his dad was trying to get his barring’s Stiles handed him the water and the pills.

 

`Did you eat already? ´ His father asked before swallowing the Aspirin and taking a few sips of water.

 

`Yes.´ Stiles lied while placing the try closer to his father.

 

`Did you take your meds? ´ The question came before his father took a sip of coffee. When Stiles shook his head, he half expected his father to get mad but instead he just sighed and told Stiles to take his medication.

 

Stiles left his father to eat his breakfast in peace, and probably to take another few hours of sleep while Stiles was at school.

 

**~*~**

 

Weeks had passed since the death and the funeral of Paige Stilinski, most people were back to living their normal dull lives, floating through the corridors of Beacon Hills High School like nothing tragic had happened. Derek however hadn’t moved on, there was a constant ache inside of his chest, a thick drowning sense of loneliness that was there from dusk till dawn; he could only escape from it in his dreams where he could live through better days. Derek had taken to sneaking into the Stilinski house at night, he knew it wasn’t healthy behavior to sneak into his dead mates bedroom and lay in her bed soaking in her scent; he would often cry himself to sleep there, only to wake-up in his own bed in the morning, he wasn’t sure which one of his parents it was that kept moving him but then again he didn’t care about it.

 

It had been a week since his mother had sat him down before breakfast, his father looming by the door arms crossed, her hands gently stroking the sides of her face a few times before finally speaking, `I think, you should reach out to Stiles.´

 

Derek had been surprised by this and looked up at his father who gave a short nod, trying to muster a smile but it was a fragile one the sort that had been there ever since Stiles stopped coming around.

 

`He needs someone Derek, and you need someone too.´ was all his mother said and although she had given him the right to speak to Stiles it took Derek a week before he could even bring himself to consider it.

 

Derek was standing by his locker staring at the clock, Stiles was running late which had become a thing of late, although Heather had offered to keep driving Stiles to school and home Stiles had declined the offer; but then again Stiles and Mr. Stilinski were declining any offer of help, from what Derek had heard Mr. Stilinski hadn’t gone back to work and no one knew when he would be returning. Derek could smell the whiskey the man drank all the way up into Paige’s bedroom; he could hear the man crying himself to sleep just like he did so he knew that the father had not yet stopped grieving.

 

Derek is snapped out of his thoughts when the scent of Stiles sneaks towards him, for the first-time in ages Derek can smell the real Stiles as the stench of the late Alpha Ennis had finally been washed away from the boy. Derek looks over at the boy who moves through the halls of Beacon Hills like a ghost, people are visibly uncomfortable around Stiles.

 

Derek takes a few deep breathes before heading towards Stiles. It was difficult looking at the kid, not just because Stiles was Paige’s little-brother-whom-she-had-begged-Derek-to-loo-after and not because he could see Paige in him, what made it hard to look at Stiles was the way he looked like he was barely alive; the bones were sticking out more now than ever before, there was the sickly paleness that made Derek worry if Stiles was terminal, there was a smell of constant fear and pain always latching on to the boy.

 

Clearing his throat nervously, his hand traveling through his hair like a nervous tick, Derek broke the silence between him and Stiles, `Hi.´

 

The boy nearly leaps out of his skin, books falling to the floor with a loud sound that is masked by the scream that escapes the young Stilinski. Derek reaches out to Stiles, who pulls away with eyes full of panic and body shaking like this was all far too much for him to take. Derek pulls away and raises both his hands up, trying to tell Stiles he’s no threat.

 

`Is everything alright Mr. Stilinski?´ Mr. Argent’s voice has Derek snapping his attention to the teacher walking up the hall towards the two, eyes drilling holes into Derek before focusing on Stiles who hasn’t moved an inch and who’s heart is beating a most terrible rhythm that hurts Derek’s ears.

 

Stiles give a short nod, but neither hunter nor werewolf are too convinced by it.

 

`I think you two should head to class now.´ Mr. Argent says, while helping Stiles to gather-up his things, `wouldn’t want either of you getting detention.´

 

Derek will go to class, but he will also not just surrender after one failure at getting Stiles to talk to him; no, Derek will try and try again to approach Stiles. They were so close to becoming brothers; they were as good as brothers that is before everything went to hell.  

 

**~*~**

 

Gerald Argent isn’t a fool, never has been and never will be. He can see what is going on, he can see the beast trying to wiggle its way back into the heart of the boy. And that will not do, not at all. He can of course keep the two separated for the most part of the school day, but when school is out and summer days without classes drawing nearer and nearer his arm is being twisted. He has to speed-up things, he would have liked to give the child the necessary time to heal before making another move; but times were hard and difficult decision had to be made.

 

Gerald has a free period which gives him the time he needs to move his pieces around the chessboard in his head, he takes a seat in the teachers lounges; alone at last, and pulls out his phone dialing at first Dr. De Vries the psychiatrist that has been treating young Stilinski, another person easily bought by the Argent fortune.

 

`Gerald, always a pleasure to hear from you.´ the drawling voice says on the other end of the phone.

 

`De Vries.´ Gerald greets with his voice low, he does not care much for the man and prefers not to deal with him too much, `I’m interested in how your patient is doing.´

 

`Oh but of course you are.´ the man says with a mocking laughter, before turning almost professional in his tone, `Anxiety levels are high. Panic Attacks are frequent. Self-loathing is at its peak. Depression and the usual self-harm aside, the boy is doing better.´ Gerald knows it’s all a lie, but ignores his want to point it out, `But I doubt you want to know what medication he is on.´

 

`Rather skip that.´ Gerald admits walking over to the coffeemaker, `I’m more interested in knowing what is going on inside his head, doctor.´

 

`Oh, well that I can help you with.´ the man chuckles at the end of the line, the sound of papers moving about tells Gerald the man isn’t too interested in remembering details of the conversations going on his small dreary office, `well, he keeps having nightmares of the attack against his person, he describes the attackers – and he often dreams he is being violated by two males and not one – as werewolves which I believe is an attempt for him to handle the inability to fight the attackers away.´

 

Gerald lets out a snort, but the doctor either thinks he agrees with his theory or is simply to deaf to hear it, `He also describes one of them as the man he had an affair with, a man who apparently used him for his own selfish pleasures, it was of course consensual.´

 

Gerald grabs his cup from the rack and waits for a fresh pot of coffee to brew, the only reason Dr. de Vries hasn’t taken the news of Stiles little roll-around with Peter Hale is because Gerald has wished him not too; and because the man is not interested in anything really to do with the boy.

 

`What about the relationship with father and son? ´ Gerald asks, watching the dark liquid begin to make its way into the coffeepot.

 

`He speaks very little about his father, unless to point out how deeply the man grieves for the loss of his daughter.´ there is a short pause that has Gerald almost tingling with excitement, `It seems however, and this is of course more and observation than anything else, and a slip of the tongue on the part of the child.´

 

`Yes. What is it? ´ Gerald asks eager to hear what might be good news for him or the sort that would leave Gerald wanting a new plan.

 

`When the man drinks too much he has a tendency to lose some of his control.´ The words bring a smile to Gerald’s lips although he keeps it from his voice as he asks, `You think he is abusing his son?´

 

`Perhaps.´

 

There is a short silence during which Dr. de Vries moves the documents he had dig out around, and Gerald beams up at the cabinets before making an excuse to end the call.

 

With a cup of coffee in one hand and dialing a new number with the other, Gerald makes his way over to the table by the window, it doesn’t take long before there’s a familiar voice on the other end of the line, `Morning Boris.´

 

`Argent.´ the gruff voice at the other end of the line says with a yawn, `What can I do for you? ´

 

`I need your help old-friend.´ Gerald says with a pleased smile playing on his lips, a fresh cup of coffee was just what he needed.

 

`Of course, tell old-Boris what he can do for you.´ Gerald can hear the way the large man struggles to get out of bed, another reason why Boris was no longer out on the field; a one-legged hunter could still hunt but one that was bigger than Santa in the middle part of the body was rather useless unless they had special skills, which Boris had.

 

`Those pictures I sent.´

 

`The pretty boy.´ Boris answered quickly and eagerly, everyone knew Boris had a thing for young boys.

 

`Yes.´ Gerald said before taking another sip of his coffee, `I want you to play with them a little before sending them to the address I’m about to text you.´

 

`Like we did with the Burks or with the Craves? ´

 

`Craves if you will.´ Gerald replied with a twisted little smile on his lips, `Needless to say I would appreciate it if you could do it quickly.´

 

`I’ll have them sent over ASAP.´ Boris said before letting a deep laughter and ending the call at that.

 

`Good old-Boris.´ Gerald hums as he sends the address of the Stilinski house and the name of Alec Stilinski. With the text sent Gerald calls one of his other associates.

 

Gerald Argent knows that if Christopher knew what he was doing then his son would do his best to put a stop to it. But considering how most of Gerald’s men were loyal to him and him alone, there was little risk of his son finding out.

 

 

 

****

 


	28. Top if His Class

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The school year was over and done, and Stiles found himself trapped between to Hales, promises of curly-fries and ice-cream in the air.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A chapter with a bit less angst. Hope you like it because I'm really nervous about this chapter.

 

The bell rang, school was out and the students of Beacon Hills High School exploded in cheers, even those with the promise of summer school were for the time being excited by the prospect of not having to spend hours and hours sitting inside dull classrooms listening to the same old teacher’s droning on and on. Lockers were quickly emptied, and goodbyes were said and promises were made with lightheartedness, as the school year ended.

 

Stiles didn’t feel the same cheerfulness as the other students did, while others had great hopes for the summer Stiles had none; he wouldn’t be going out camping or getting drunk around a bonfire with friends,  he wouldn’t be traveling around the country, there were no camps to go too, no friends to see. His summer would be spent at the house with his father who was still drinking too much and it made him unable to get back to work.

 

Stiles had tried to find a summer job but no one had hired him; even offering to mow lawns and washing cars for nothing had resulted in exactly that _nothing_ , people still saw him as nothing more than the boy who was raped and that just made them uncomfortable with having Stiles around.

 

Stiles walked over to his bike which had a flat tire which Stiles had been expecting, he’d tried to fix it but obviously there were either a new hole somewhere or the patch-up hadn’t been much to cheer about. Stiles unlocked his bike without much thought, trying to ignore are the happy people around him. He’d almost got the last lock unlocked when he heard a familiar voice call out to him; it nearly had him jumping out of his skin even if this particular werewolf had never done anything to harm him. Still, anything to do with werewolves these days had him reacting rather poorly.

 

`Stiles, my boy.´ Thomas Hale called out over the crowed, Stiles turned around to look at the tanned man with dark hair that had grown out since the last-time Stiles had seen him, there was now a thick scruff of a beard covering the strong jaw and chin, `It’s been awhile.´

 

Stiles can see that the smile of the werewolf breaks a little as he takes in the appearance of Stiles, but Thomas has never been one of the Hale’s to pester him about his eating habits too much; he’d rather been fond of simply slipping food to Stiles in a none distressing way. Stiles is thankful he had done the laundry a few days ago, so that he smelled almost fresh and clean.

 

`M-Mr. Hale.´ Stiles says in a form of a greeting although it almost chocks him, Stiles had only called Thomas Mr. Hale a few times before until Thomas insisted Stiles to call him by a less formal name; it had taken a few visits to the Hale’s before they’d reached the point where Thomas insisted Stiles should call him Thomas and after that they’d grown rather close, after that there had been driving lessons and plotting pranks to pull out on the members of the Hale-family.

 

`Mr. Hale? ´ Thomas says rather disbelievingly, but he continues to smile none the less and glances at the flat tier, `I think you could do with a ride, dear boy.´

 

`N-n-no.´ Stiles says quickly, shaking his head because he can’t risk letting the Hale’s back into his heart.

 

`Come now.´ Thomas says as he reaches out and picked up the bike without effort, ignoring Stiles’ feeble protests, `It’ll take you an hour on foot to get home.´ And with that Stiles bike was thrown into the back of Thomas’ truck, refusing to take a no as an answer.

 

Stiles was made to sit between Thomas and Derek, which was awkward to say the least.

 

`So, Derek told me you were at the top of your class,´ Thomas says sounding so very proud and beaming at Stiles the way Stiles wished his father would look at him. Stiles gives a short nod, which causes Thomas to create a strange sound which Stiles often thought was something between a purr and a hum.

 

`We’re stopping for some curly-fires and ice-cream kids.´ Thomas said with such pride in his voice while his hand ruffled Stiles hair, it had grown out because Stiles couldn’t get his own hands or his fathers to stop shaking long enough to return the buzz-cut he had been sporting before Paige’s death.

 

`I r-r-really s-should g-go home.´ Stiles said, voice weak because he’d always enjoyed feeling Thomas’ fingers running over his scalp, and the lack of gentle and comforting touches had Stiles’ entire body surrendering to Thomas’ kind and affectionate touch.

 

`And you will. But first we’re celebrating. I didn’t get a chance to celebrate your birthday so this is the least I can do, kiddo.´ Thomas says without making it sound like he was hurt over Stiles cutting him and rest of the Hale’s out of his life, but Stiles still has a feeling that his actions have hurt the werewolf who reached out to rest his strong hand at the back of Stiles neck, rubbing his thumb against Stiles neck; it was a familiar touch that had always calmed Stiles down, and Stiles had missed it enough to melt into the touch.

 

**~*~**

 

 _That’s my clever boy_ , Thomas had thought when Derek had told him about Stiles success, even after all the suffering Stiles had gone through he had still managed to end his school year at Beacon Hills High School at the top of his class. Of course he was proud of Derek as well; his own son had managed his great grief well enough not to fail a single class. Thomas had honestly feared his son would be attending summer school. But to find that Stiles was at the top of his class after the horrible school year the child had gone through still made Derek’s success ever so slightly less impressive.

 

When Thomas smelled Stiles, he turned his attention away from his own son and focused on the human-boy, his heart ached at the sight of Stiles; the child was sickly pale and nothing but skin and bones.

 

But at least the boy wasn’t limping anymore, and it eased the tenseness that had Thomas’ muscles rigid which made him look much more pleasing for those young ladies that found men such as him attractive; rough and rugged had their own admires and Thomas knew this very well.  

 

`Wait here.´ Thomas told Derek while removing his large hand from the shoulder not attached to his own shoulder. Derek simply gave a nod. Thomas could feel his son watching him, for the past few days Derek had come home from school to report his failures at gaining Stiles friendship back and each day the failure weighed visibly on Derek’s young mind **.**

 

`Stiles,´ Thomas made sure his voice kept away the sorrow he felt over the appearance of the boy who should have been his son, because he would have done a better job at being the father to this fragile creature, `my boy.´

 

 _My boy, my darling boy,_ Thomas thought, fighting against the urge to reach out an pull the boy into a tight hug, but the reaction of the boy told him to hold back any unnecessary touches until the boy felt a bit more comfortable.

 

`It’s been awhile.´ Thomas said while trying hard to smile without showing how disturbing it was to see his darling boy looking so thin and frail, this would never have happened if Talia and he had the boy in their care.

 

Hearing Stiles call him Mr. Hale was like an ice-cold shower, there was something so wrong hearing Stiles call him that after all the time they’ve spent together; after all the talks and laughter’s shared hearing Stiles call him Mr. Hale just wasn’t right at all.

 

Thomas quickly offers, well it’s not really an offer, to drive the boy home. He picks up the bike that was in no real shape to be riding around on, and threw it in the backof his truck, ignoring Stiles protests.

 

When Thomas has his two boys in his truck, he just can’t let Stiles go without showing him how much he has missed the kid and how proud he is of him. Thomas would gladly just drive the boy to the house, raise him there but abducting a child would not be the best way of going about getting Stiles back into the fold of the pack; of course there was always a hope for Stockholm syndrome, but still it was an unnecessary risk to the pack.

 

So instead of abducting the boy Thomas took Stiles and Derek out for some curly-fries and ice-cream. He ignores Stiles’ weak protests.

 

As they walk into the diner Thomas almost feels like he is the father to both the boy’s especially when he informs their waitress that their celebrating; he can’t stop be all proud of Derek’s achievements and Stiles’ being at the top of his class. It was hard not to let himself pretend for a moment that he was indeed the father to both of the boys, and he knew it wasn’t a sane thing to do.

 

Thomas wants Stiles to eat and gain back the weight he had lost, but still Thomas doesn’t force the issue not even when Stiles barely finishes eating half of his fries.Thomas keeps his mouth tightly shut when Stiles barely eats any of the ice-cream.  As always Thomas happily finished Stiles fries and the ice-cream which was a rather common thing between the two, it earns him a silent thank you from the boy. If Talia had been there she would have glared at Thomas for helping Stiles with his meal.

 

Thomas would have gladly keep Stiles a while longer, would have loved to play the part of his father for just an hour longer, but when Stiles told him that he has to get home to help his dad make dinner Thomas relents and drives Stiles home even if it kills him to know that Stiles would do far better staying with him and Talia; they could kick Peter and Martha out, get them an apartment or something so Stiles wouldn’t have to bare Peter’s presence, the could care for the boy and nurture him back to health. But abducting a child was frowned upon even in the werewolf circles.

 

`Stiles.´ Thomas says as he hands the useless bike to Stiles, `You can call me anytime. You know that right? ´

 

Stiles says nothing to confirm this piece of knowledge, instead he quickly thanks Thomas and hurries up towards the bleak looking house, leaving his bike by the steps before hurrying inside.

 

Thomas wants to howl, call for Stiles to get back in the truck so they could all go home; to call out for a pup lost. But Stiles isn’t his pup, not legally and does that just not feel like a kick in the balls. With a sigh Thomas get back inside his truck and drives away, reaching out towards his son and pulls him closer to his body, he needs to at least hold one of his sons close.

 

**~*~**

 

Stiles hears the truck drive-off just before he hears his father’s voice from the top of the stairs ask, `Where have you been?´ The demand has him in a state of alarm and anxiousness that blooms wildly inside of him, pushing at the boundaries of another panic attack.

 

Stiles looks up towards his father who doesn’t look drunk. His father comes walking down the stairs like a sober man should, each step firm and precise, there is no harshness in the voice nor anger in his eyes as the question that had Stiles heart trying to escape and the lack of hatred has Stiles throwing himself at his father. Stiles hugs his father as tightly as his weak arms can muster, there is an unfamiliar hope inside of him a hope that maybe he’d finally got his father back.

 

`Genim? What’s wrong son?´ His dad sounds worried, arms tightening around him, all protective and comforting, this is what Stiles had needed since the attack and so he soaked it up like a desperate dry sponge. Refusing to let go of his father.

 

`Son, please tell me what’s wrong? ´

 

`Nothing.´ Stiles says rubbing his face against his father’s shoulder. It’s not the entire truth. There are a lot of things that were terribly wrong, but Stiles would happily overlook it for the chance to keep his father like this.

 

`Are you sure? ´ His father asks soft and worried.

 

Stiles simply nods while tightening his hold around his father.

 

`Son where were you?´ the question has Stiles going rigid, he can almost imagine how badly this will end, how his father will go into a rage over Stiles not coming straight home from school, `I need to know Genim.´

 

Swallowing nervously Stiles tells his father about going out for curly-fries and ice-cream, and the reason behind it. When his father moves to create some distance between them Stiles closes his eyes expecting yelling or a backhanded strike across the face, but what happens is nothing of the sort. Gentle hands brush against the sides of his face, and lift his head so that when Stiles opens his eyes he is looking straight into his father’s eyes.

 

`You’re at the top of your class? ´ his father sounds absolutely amazed and proud, and when Stiles looks into his father’s eyes that is exactly what he sees. Stiles answers with a short nod. His father beams down at him before hugging him even tighter, `That’s my boy. Oh my God son, you’ve done so good.´

 

`We should celebrate.´ the words have Stiles feeling anxious, because what if those words give his father the right to take a drink, `So, what would you like to do? ´

 

Stiles relaxes slightly against his father and gives himself a moment to think about what he might like to do with his father.

 

`We can do anything you’d like to do.´ his father says while running his fingers through Stiles hair which has him pointing out that Stiles needs a haircut or he might end up looking like a homeless person; there was not a single hint of malice in the voice, and it keeps Stiles calm.

 

****

 


	29. No Harm Will Come to Thee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alec Stilinski stands there watching the doctors anxiously, body tense and stomach churning every look given to him tells him the doctor thinks him incapable of taking care of his son, they think him a bad parent by the shape his son is in and he knows they are right about him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Breathe in. Breathe out. Relaxe. No harm comes to Stiles here.

Stiles woke up from his nap, curled up on his bed, wrapped up all snug. It wasn’t a peaceful wake with the sound of glass breaking, the sound gets his heart racing and a coldness spreads through his body as the thought that his father was back to drinking. His dad hadn’t had a drink for two weeks now, Stiles had by now been lulled into a false sense of security, but now with the sound of his father cursing out loudly in the kitchen Stiles can’t help the fear and disappointment flood and drown him. He curls in on himself tighter and starts to sob into the pillow he had been wrapped around while sleeping.

 

Things had started to look good again, his dad was back to work but still not as much as he had been when Paige was alive. Stiles wondered if his need to be close to his father had driven his dad to start drinking, maybe it had been too much having Stiles always wrapping his arms around him; maybe Stiles need to feel loved had reminded his father that the one he actually loved was now in the could ground. Stiles couldn’t help the loud sob that escaped him or the ones that followed.

 

The next thing Stiles heard was his bedroom door flinging open loudly and almost violently even with it being ajar, it makes his body flinch violently and Stiles curls around himself even tighter afraid of the punches that will surely come and he tries to cover and protect his head and face. Stiles expects the pain to start as he hears his father run over to his bed, he expects to be pulled out of bed by his hair, he expects the beating and it terrifies him how prepared he is for it.

 

What Stiles expects isn’t what happens, his suddenly wrapped into his father’s arms just as a flood of panic spreads through Stiles as memories of previous beatings starts to flicker through his mind, what he hears through his panicked haze aren’t the words of hatred and cruelty.

 

`Son. Son. It’s okay. I’m here. I’m here.´ the arms around Stiles tighten and soon a soothing hand and fingers run through Stiles hair, `I’m here. You’re safe. You’re safe.´

 

Stiles can’t help starting to sob louder as he realizes he’s not going to get bruised and beaten, and when he sobs louder his father tightens his hold and continues to whisper soothing words to Stiles who clings to his father desperately.

 

`You’re okay. I’m here.´ Stiles hears his father say softly while gently turning Stiles to face him, and then Stiles gets a gentle kiss on the forehead before his father pulls Stiles closer, holding him tightly and protectively, `I’m not going to let anyone hurt you. I haven’t been a good father of late. But I’m here now. And I won’t let anyone hurt you _ever_ again.´

 

Stiles grabs a hold of his father, desperate fingers grasping at the shirt that his father has once again started to wear with an air of pride.

 

`I’ve got you. I’m here.´ His father promises as he holds Stiles tighter, ignoring the tears and snot that are slowly ruining his clean shirt.

 

They stay like that Stiles wrapped up safely in his father’s arms until Stiles finally calms down enough for Alec Stilinski to dare ask what had brought on the tears and violent trembles, Stiles hides his face against his father’s chest, listening to the steady heartbeat that had always made Stiles feel safe when he had been little and afraid of thunderstorms.

 

`B-bad d-dream.´ Stiles lied, before asking his dad about the sound of shattering glass.

 

`Tried to make us a snack, dropped the stupid glass when I slipped in the juice I spilled second’s before.´ his dad chuckled before he groaned out. `Shit.´ then his arms tightened around Stiles and he with a slightly nervous voice which was so unlike the man who had raised him Alec Stilinski asked Stiles, `The sound – did it make you think someone was breaking into the house? Did you think someone was coming to hurt you again?´ The memory of how scared he had been that his father was going to beat him black and blue, gets Stiles back to sobbing and apologizing but his father kissed the top of Stiles head and hushes him.

 

`You’re safe son. And I’ll do everything to keep you safe.´

 

**~*~**

 

Alec Stilinski couldn’t stand hospitals; well he could as long as it was related to work and not his own family. Alec had his hand on his son the moment he and Stiles were walking across the parking lot towards the building that just screamed out Hospital even without the glowing sign and the various signs offering guidance to different wards, he needed to feel his son and not just see him. And when he could no longer hold a hand on his son, when he could only stand and later sit in the corner and watch as doctors and nurses weighed and measured his skeletal son, he watched his son like a hawk.

 

Seeing the amount of bones sticking out of the pale body of his son had Alec feeling sick. He was almost glad when Genim was made to stand with his back to him, because he needed a moment to stifle a gasp and dry the tears that escaped him.

 

_Jesus Chris, how did I miss this? How did I miss him getting this bad?_ The questions strangled his soul and heart, of course Alec hadn’t kept on with the appointments after Paige died, because Paige had been the one who had organized their schedules; but it was still not a proper excuse to what Alec was seeing.

 

His son was skin and bones.

 

The doctor gave Alec a look that told him that he might lose his son, and not just because Genim had been starving himself once again but because the doctor and nurses were obviously considering whether or not Alec could take care of his only child.

 

Still Alec did his best to stay strong for his little boy, he held tightly to his son’s bony hand when a kind-faced nurse with white-blond hair and blue eyes took twovials of blood from his son who feared needles as much as Alec feared losing his son. Since Genim had been a little one, for as long as Alec could remember, Genim had been afraid of needles even if he had been incredibly close to his mother it had been only when sitting in his daddy’s lap that the Genim had not fought and screamed when a needle was brought near his pale sensitive skin. It seemed nothing had changed, and even though Alec hated seeing his son so afraid, a part of him found a sense of warmth spread through him at the need his son had for his comfort and company.

 

When the talk with the doctor was done, Alec felt like the worst father ever. His son was a pound or two from being hospitalized. Alec was a pound or two from losing his son. With his hand on the bony neck of his son, Alec guided his boy towards the cafeteria; there was no way in Hell his boy would continue starving himself into an early grave, not as long as Alec had a heartbeat.

 

**~*~**

 

Stiles hated hospitals and doctors, he hated having to endure being poked and prodded at like some curiosity, of course he understood why he had to go through it but it didn’t make it any easier to endure. Having his dad there had made it easier, even if the news wasn’t great; Stiles just wasn’t gaining enough weight to satisfy the doctor. His father of course made the usual promises, although now when he was back to being sober they held more truth than lie which made Stiles feel both glad and anxious.

 

To keep to his promises Alec Stilinski dragged Stiles to the cafeteria to have a quick snack before Stiles was dropped off back home while his father had to go back to work, Stiles was sitting at the smallest of tables when a familiar voice squealed out from nowhere Stiles name – well, a version of it.

 

Stiles brain had just enough time to register Cora Hale’s voice when the little girl who had grown a bit since their last encounter, jumped up into his lap and hugged the air right out of his chest.

 

`Tiles. Tiles whe hav you been? ´ Cora asked while rubbing her nose against Stiles neck and shoulder, scenting him, growling slightly before she told him he smelled wrong.

 

`Cora! ´ the familiar voice of Talia Hale boomed over the cafeteria, but Cora seemed oblivious to her mother’s rage as she continued to rub herself all over Stiles.

 

`Tiles. Tiles.´ Cora said as she finally granted some distance between herself and Stiles, her eyes peering into his with a strange intensity, `I no more baby. Uncle Petel has baby now.´ of course Stiles understood why Cora was so excited over the new edition to the family; she would no longer have to endure being called the baby of the family. The words squeeze the air out of Stiles, sorrow and panic crash into Stiles so hard he feels like he is about to get sick all over Cora’s pretty yellow dress.

 

`I held it.´ Cora says proudly, still unaware of the affect her words have had on Stiles who struggles to breathe, who fights against the instinct to push Cora off of him and run into the nearest toilet and empty the nothing that is his stomach, `When you come an play?´

 

`Stiles?´ Talia says softly as she comes to kneel beside Stiles and Cora, a gentle hand reaching up to cup Stiles’ face, `Honey, you need to breathe. Breathe baby.´

 

But Stiles can’t he can’t breathe, not now when he sees Peter standing right there by the doorway out of the cafeteria eyes locked on him, and all Stiles can thing about are the words the werewolf that raped him had said they play through his heavy mind that is racing and replaying the horrors of the evening when Stiles life had fallen apart.

 

Dark spots are appearing in his vision and Stiles is absolutely terrified of blacking out, of losing his consciousness and waking up somewhere where another one of Peter’s friends are waiting to hurt him; he opens his mouth to scream for his dad, but he can’t breathe and he can’t scream and Cora is holding on to him far too tightly and Talia is far too loud, and Stiles feels sick. He tries to move, to push Cora away but he can’t move he’s paralyzed; he can’t even try to defend himself.

 

The last thing he sees is Cora’s terrified expression, the last thing he hears are several different voices screaming.

 

`Tiles! ´ Cora screams with a sob.

 

`Stiles breathe.´ Talia demands.

 

Someone is screaming for a doctor.

 

And his dad screams, `SON! ´

 

And then it all stops as the darkness washes over him.

 


	30. Left You To Die

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter stood over the body that looked like Deaths companion, and still there was a strange beauty to the grotesqueness of a starved out Stiles Stilinski.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short little chapter for you all to read.

 

 

 

Peter sneaked into the room, it was rather easy considering that there had been a pile-up that had the Hospital staff running around trying to keep up with the demand that had suddenly been placed on them, it was all rather fortunate for him.

 

Talia and Cora had left an hour ago, with Cora screaming and crying uncontrollably and Talia smelling like it was her own child that had collapsed in the middle of the cafeteria.  Martha and the baby were upstairs sleeping soundly, both healthy and ready to leave in a couple of hours once the doctor cleared both of them. Peter knew he should have been far more interested in his newborn daughter and his mate than some skinny kid that had caused him so much suffering.

 

Stiles Stilinski looked so small where he was left to rest, the monitors telling Peter what his hearing already told him; the boy was alive, the heart was still beating. Peter walked over to the bed breathing in the scent of a heavily medicated child. Peter listened to the heart that was beating inside the frail body where bones were visible and grotesque, carefully he reached out to touch the skeletal hand resting above the covers; the boy was unusually cold to the touch, like Peter had drained the warmth from the body or perhaps it had been Ennis’ doing and not his.

 

Peter listened to the broken heart, a heart that hadn’t been able to handle the panic attack that had hit Stiles in the cafeteria, and Peter wasn’t delusional enough not to understand that it had been seeing him that had sent the boy into a terrible spiral. Peter had heard the approaching panic and he had watched the moment when the body had sagged, he had heard the moment the exhausted heart stuttered into a stop. Peter had stood there watching as Talia laid the child down on the cafeteria floor before dragging off her daughter who was about to go through her first shift right there and then.

 

Cora had screamed and cried for “her Tiles”, Talia had glared at him as she rushed past him, and Peter had stood there watching as some doctor who didn’t even look old enough to practice medicine come to the rescue of young Stilinski. He watched as the older Stilinski was pleading with his son not to leave him, to stay, to fight. Peter had watched as unfamiliar people flocked around the boy, he’d watched as those unfamiliar hands and mouths kept working to bring the boy back to life. He had watched how electric-currants jolted the boy out of deaths door.

 

Peter watched it all happen and while a part of him wished the boy to stay dead, not to return to haunt him another part of him begged for the heart to beat back to life because of various reasons that confused him, and there weren’t a lot of things that confused Peter Hale.

 

Peter removed his hand like the body had burned him suddenly. He looked at the face that had drawn him to the pretty-boy that was even now while looking like Deaths companion rather beautiful. Peter looked at the features of bone and skin that was dotted with fine dark moles and wondered if he should just slit the long fine throat or to simply break the fine neck, because he couldn’t handle living in the same town as this beautiful fragile creature that was slowly driving Peter mad.

 

`Peter?´ Peter turned around to face the man who looked far beyond exhausted, still wearing his uniform that was soaked from the heavy rains that had probably been the cause of the pile-up that had stolen the father away from his son’s bedside for over a half an hour, `What are you doing here?´

 

`I was visiting my wife and child, when I heard Stiles was here. I just wanted to make sure he was alright.´ Peter said, turning just enough to glance over at the kid that looked anything but peaceful where he lay pale and cold, `I’m sorry for intruding, especially considering how me and Stiles have lost touch.´

 

With asigh the father stepped inside the room and walked over to the chair beside the bed, water dripping all over the floor as he walked, `It’s fine.´ the man sounded absolutely as worn out as he looked, `I’m glad he hasn’t been alone all this time.´

 

The exhausted man leaned down to place a gentle kiss on the pale forehead before sitting down in the chair that had not been designed for comfort, taking a firm hold of the hand that Peter thought even a human could crush easily.

 

`What happened to him? ´ Peter asked, although he knew the answer but he had to play the part of an ignorant fool.

 

A heavy sigh escaped the man as he cradled the hand gently in both of his own much larger and stronger hands, `I don’t know. We were at the cafeteria, I left him at the table so I could get him something to eat; he needs to eat, he’s too thin.´ theeyes that held so much sorrow looked at the child on the bed, desperation so vivid in its presence that even the lack of the stench of fear and dread as well as grief and desperation there was no denying the hell the father was going through. If Peter had been a better man, then he might have been able to feel some pity towards Alec Stilinski, but Peter isn’t a better man.

 

`I don’t know what happened. He was fine and then he wasn’t. His heart stopped. They say it stopped. They say he was dead for a few minutes.´ then the eyes turn towards Peter as the man sobs out, `My son died today. Oh God.´ Hearing the signs of a panic attack approaching Peter excused himself and went to find a nurse to deal with the father, because Peter couldn’t deal with Alec Stilinski.

 

**~*~**

 

Talia sat by her youngest one, who had finally calmed down and slipped into a peaceful slumber, but still her hands ran through the dark brown hair and rubbed the little back in comforting slowness. Talia could hear her mate and older children return from the hunt, talking and laughing, her mate’s mood had shifted after he’d managed to take their missing pup out for curly-fries and ice-cream. Talia wasn’t sure what had transpired with Stiles after she and Cora had left the hospital, and she feared the worst she had wished never to experience the loss of losing a child but she feared Stiles might be the one to bring that fear to reality; Stiles was not her flesh and blood, but still her wolf felt like the boy belonged to her like Cora, Derek and Laura did.  

 

Reluctantly Talia left her daughter sleeping while walking downstairs, drying the stray tears that escaped her, she needed to stay strong for her pack and family; especially when they had no clue what was going on with the human child.

 

She found her mate and children in the kitchen, laughing over some little mishap that had played out between Derek and their prey, Thomas’ back was turned to her as he tried to wash off the blood that covered his strong hands, while Laura was going placing the meat in the fridge for Abigail to prepare as she wished, and Derek was standing there in the middle of the kitchen going silent at the sight of his mother.

 

`What’s wrong?´ Derek asked immediately, eyes fearful and wide, it was at these moments Talia was reminded how young her son still was, and for someone so young he had gone through hardships she had not yet even experienced.

 

Her mate and daughter both turned around to face her, and although she had tried to scold her face into something less alarming, it was still too late because her mate looked like she had already told him they’d lost a child.

 

`Talia? ´ Thomas whispered, whined, approaching her like only she could keep him from breaking a part.

 

`Stiles.´ was all Talia could say, because there was a thick lump in her throat and it grew as she imagined the funeral of the boy she loved like a son; a funeral where she could not even sit there in the first row of pews like a grieving parent should, where she could not just walk up and talk about how much she loved her boy with the wide doe-like eyes and a laughter that was shameless and loud. She would grieve like a mother without being supported as such by the community; no one would come and give her their condolences or give her words of comfort. No, Talia would be forced to do it to a man that had been part of the boys creation, who’s blood had ran through the veins of the child Talia would grieve over for the rest of her life. If the child had been pack, then other packs would have sent her condolences and howled on the following Wolfs Moon for the lost pup, but Stiles wasn’t a Hale and so no one but the Hale’s would howl for his soul; no one but the Hale’s would remember on the full-moon.  

 

`What about him? Where is he? ´ Thomas asked voice panicked and loud, `Did Peter do something? Did someone else? Where is he Talia?´ Talia took her mates hands and held them tightly before she could bring herself to tell what she knew had happened.

 

Thomas looked like she had just told him they had lost all their children, and she wrapped him into her arms and held her mate tightly as he started to cry; it was the most frightful thing she had ever experienced involving her mate, he had always been so strong and now she had reduced him into tears. While she gave her mate comfort Derek ran out of the house with his sister giving chase.

 

**~*~**

 

Derek ran, he ran and ran all the way to the hospital, body aching and tiered as he sniffed his way through halls and corridors until he found the room where Stiles Stilinski was kept, all the while he feared the scent would take him below the hospital where the lifeless remains of those who had passed lay in cold-storage like nothing more than pieces of meat. But Stiles wasn’t dead, he was alive and the moment he heard the heartbeat behind the door that held both Stiles and his father, Derek broke out in sobs because Stiles was alive; Derek hadn’t failed him, he hadn’t broke his promise to Paige.

 

Stiles was alive.

 

`Derek?´ Laura asked with a fragile voice that did not fit her at all while she walked over to him, her hair was a mess and she smelled almost as badly as he did.

 

`He’s alive.´ Derek laughed and turned to hug his sister, `He’s alive.´

 

Laura returned his hug tenfold, and there they stood for nearly five minutes just hugging one another before Laura the voice of reason, pointed out that they should inform their parents with the good news.

 

Derek released his sister, who quickly pointed out they both needed to get themselves sorted out before even trying to visit Stiles, considering they both looked like they had been running around like mindless beasts; which they had.

 


	31. Alive. Alive. Alive.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There had been too much death already. Thomas Hale couldn’t handle the thought of losing the child that wasn’t his but should have been. Derek couldn’t handle the prospect of breaking his promise to Paige. And Alec Stilinski couldn’t even think about what would happen if his son was to join his daughter and wife. But thankfully Stiles Stilinski had not departed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of Stiles, a bit of Derek and a bit of my lovely Thomas. Oh, before I forget, this was actually two chapters but I thought it was better glue them together because the way I left off chapter 31 just didn’t work.

 

Waking up had never felt so difficult before, it was like being dragged back down by a heavy force pushed against your entire body that was simply too exhausted to keep on fighting it, but Stiles really didn’t want to slip back into a restless slumber where the dreams were those he expected during a bad acid-trip. He feels a sound break through the back of his throat, because he’s growing more and more distressed as he fights against the pull of sleep because Stiles doesn’t want to sleep not when there were only nightmares in bright vivid colors waiting for him.

 

Stiles wants to wake-up, he wants to wake-up and wash away the Sahara that had settled in his mouth with several glasses of water.

 

`Genim?´ his father’s voice is gentle and hopeful, `Son?´ then Stiles feels like his hand is being crushed and something warm and gentle rests against his forehead, `Genim can you hear me?´ Stiles tries to nod, but he isn’t sure he’s managed to do that much as his father keeps calling out to him which is starting to grain at his young nerves, but it is all enough to push him over the last hurdle that has kept his eyes sealed.

 

However as soon as Stiles opens his eyes he regrets it, he regrets it with every fiber of his being, because there’s a bright light that shoots sharp-pains through his unfocused eyes and the pain explode through his eyes and into his brain which feels like his brain has suddenly decided to act like a second heart; but there isn’t enough room to make this change a none painful one, his brain beats against the walls that surrounds it. Stiles wants to scream out the agony he’s experiencing but he could only muster up a groan and a whimper, but his dad seemed to get the message as turns the glaring light towards a different direction.

 

`You need to drink son.´ his father says as he brings the plastic cup with the bendy-straw closer to Stiles and his chapped lips, `can you drink for me son? ´

 

Stiles takes the blessed offering eagerly even if he can’t seem to focus his eyes on anything. The moment the water slips into his mouth the desire and want for more grows, his father tells him to drink slowly to take his time but Stiles can’t stop himself from greedily sucking more and more water into his mouth swallow it down because it just feels so good. The water slowly banishes away the painful dryness.  

 

`How are you feeling, kiddo? ´ His dad asks as he pulls away the cup, ignoring Stiles whining at the loss and attempts to follow the direction of the straw.

 

`W-what happened? ´ Stiles croaks looking over at his father who looks like he hasn’t slept in days. His dad is wearing a pair of scrubs and not his usual attire of either his uniform or the clothes he wears on his days off, but what his father is wearing really doesn’t matter as long as he is _there_ and sober.

 

His father looks like he’d rather not talk about it, but Stiles needs to understand why he is there in the hospital with wires and tubes attached to his body, and so he repeats the question until his father gives in.

 

With a sigh begins to tell Stiles about how he’d had a panic attack. Knowing his father as well as he does tells Stiles that his father isn’t telling him everything. His father ignores Stiles’ attempts at gaining knowledge and simply walks out of the room, and soon there’s a nurse and two doctors in the room and none of them are giving Stiles any answers; they ignore him like he’s not even there.

 

But as soon as the two remaining Stilinski’s are left alone once more, Stiles returns to demanding answers which his father is more than reluctant to give.

 

`Son please.´ his father begs, running his fingers through his hair and then down his face, but even though Stiles can tell how much this is hurting his father he keeps pushing until his father gives in. His father takes Stiles by the hand, kisses the back of the hand gently, `You had a panic attack son.´

 

Stiles nods, because they have been through this part already. His father squeezes Stiles hand tightly, and with a trembling voice he continues to speak, `It was a big one son. And – and with how weak your body is, ´ his father hesitates and with a voice that barely is loud enough for Stiles to hear his father tells Stiles the horror he had experienced.

 

`Your heart stopped son.´

 

`W-what? ´ Stiles gasps, reaching out to rest his hand over his heart.

 

`You were dead for two minutes and forty-seven seconds.´ there are fearful tears escaping from his father, `you died Genim.´

 

Stiles is shocked, stunned, unable to comprehend that having a panic attack had nearly killed him. Of course Stiles wasn’t stupid, of course he knew what he had been doing to his body was dangerous, but still he had never imagined his hos body would actually fail him during a panic attack.

 

Stiles knew he had been lucky that the attack had happened in a hospital and not in some store or at school, he had been lucky and that scared him; what if this was all the luck he would ever be given.

 

**~*~**

 

Walking into the small room Derek feels a strong nervousness settle in him, he can’t be sure that he won’t be thrown out of the room even before he has said a word. Derek found Alec Stilinski sitting by the bed reading through a few files while his son lay silent and unmoving on the bed provided by the hospital. Mr. Stilinski wasn’t wearing his uniform or clothes that would hold the usual scent of laundry detergent and home, the man was wearing scrubs which looked so strange on him that Derek ended up gawking at Mr. Stilinski like an idiot.

 

But as soon as Derek stepped inside the room the Deputy stopped his laboring and although he looked worn he put his best effort to smile at Derek, which was unexpected.  

 

`Mr. Stilinski.´ Derek said voice nervous and slightly anxious because although he didn’t think Mr. Stilinski would throw him out of the room, Derek still feared there was something about him that would scream out “I killed your daughter”.

 

`Derek.´ Mr. Stilinski said voice without a single hint of hostility, `it’s good to see you. ´

 

`It’s good to see you too, sir.´ Derek says, trying to smile but his eyes drift back to Stiles, who continues to sleep seemingly peacefully. There are tubes and wires attached to him and Derek can’t help but whine at the sight; Stiles looks like he’s dying and maybe he has been dying for months now.

 

`How is he? ´ Derek asks while struggling against the want to touch, to confirm Stiles is really there and alive.

 

`He’s doing better.´ it’s a lie, Derek can hear it, `He just needs to rest a bit, and then get some weight back on and he’ll be fine.´ the lies continue and Derek almost wants to point out that there is no need to try and fool him, but he doesn’t he just nods and tries to believe them as much as Mr. Stilinski tries too.

 

**~*~**

 

The initial shock of the news has wavered off into a feeling of dread, it thrums through his entire body like bolts of electricity, his nerve endings feel over-stimulated and he’s crushed three cups of tea by the time the phone rings breaking the heavy silence that had fallen between him and his mate. Thomas heart stops.

 

 _Please don’t be dead. Please don’t be dead. Please don’t be dead._ Thomas begs while closing his eyes, his claws are out and he feels his control break as he hears his mate answer the phone, he hears the fearful thumping of her heart that has never been subjected to such a sound before; it makes the heartbeat unfamiliar and unwelcomed to Thomas, pushing the cracks in his control to grow.

 

`Laura? ´ hearing the weakness in his mate’s voice, the cracks grow inside of Thomas who keeps pleading with his ancestors not to take the human boy from him.

 

`You’re at the hospital? ´ Talia says voice cracking slightly, the acrid scent of fear has Thomas digging his claws into the tabletop which has already been decorated with small claw-marks.

 

`Is he…´ the question never ends and Thomas looks up at his mate who suddenly smiles and lets out a sigh of relief, her beautiful hand patting the area above her heart as though that gesture alone could hold the power to ease racing of her heart.

 

Thomas is out of his chair at once, hope spreading through him like wild-fire. His brilliant boy wasn’t dead, couldn’t be if his mate was smiling at him the way she was.

 

When the call ends, Talia throws herself at Thomas the way she had done when they had been young, when they hadn’t mated and bonded, when Thomas had been thought to be dead after hunters had come after him and Talia; he’d made her hide because he could not think of living a single day if she was lost to hunters, he’d drawn their attention and with five hunters after him he ran off. Talia wraps her strong arms around him and rubs her nose against his neck like she had done when he had finally managed to escape the hunters, he had been caught and tortured until they made a mistake and he got free long enough to kill all of them; he’d made his way to the Hale’s by the desperate need to see Talia, to make sure she had survived and she had and so had he.  

 

`He’s alive. He’s alive Thomas.´ Talia says softly into his ear, her body no longer tense. Thomas wraps his arms tightly around his mate; he feels such relief that he lets out a new set of sobs because his son hadn’t left the world, he was alive and as long as Stiles was alive there was hope he would join their family.

 

`I need to see him.´ Thomas whispers into Talia’s hair once he’s calmed down enough to speak.

 

`I know.´ Talia answers pulling away enough so that they can look into each other’s eyes, they’ve both been crying tears of joy, `I’ll get Cora ready, you go and change those bloodied clothes of yours.´ they share a short smile and a long kiss before breaking free from each other.

 

**~*~**

 

Alec Stilinski had almost forgotten all about Derek Hale; that was until the young man walked through the doors of his son’s hospital room, seeing the youth reminded him of his daughter but also that Genim had a friend who was clearly upset by seeing the shape his child was in. He was glad to see the teenager, because it meant that although times had been hard Genim and Derek had not stopped being friends and what Genim needed and what Alec needed for Genim was a friend.

 

Alec Stilinski didn’t know how to respond to Derek’s question about the well-being of his son, so he simply told him what he’d wished the doctors would have told him; Genim was fine, going to be fine, he just needed a bit of time. So to keep Derek from asking anymore questions about his son, Alec started asking Derek this and that about his life not too bothered about how uncomfortable the questions made the younger man.

 

But it didn’t take too long before Laura Hale walked into the room, with two cups of coffee handing one of the cups to Alec who was rather grateful for the hot beverage because he was starting to feel the wear and tear of the day and keeping the other one for herself. Soon they were all making small talk with low voices.

 

Alec couldn’t help but notice how both Hale’s were indeed more focused on Genim than what they were with him; of course Alec had been aware that his son had been around the Hale House rather often with Paige, still he hadn’t imagined that his son had managed to grow close with Laura Hale a college student who didn’t seem like the person who would appreciate the his son’s sense of humor.

 

Alec isn’t sure how much time had passed since Laura Hale had walked into the room but suddenly there were several Hale’s walking into his son’s room carrying balloons and Get Well cards. Alec was stunned by them and although he knew he should chase them off because there were far too many people around, and his son needed to rest, but there was something about the way they all closed ranks around the bed like Genim was family made him leave them be; they looked like they needed to be there as much as he did.

 

`Mr. Stilinski.´ said Mr. Hale, voice rough while his head made something that resembled a short nod. There was something about the man that made Alec Stilinski think that Mr. Hale didn’t particularly like him which was strange considering how they had never met before. Mrs. Hale was less hostile in her greeting but there was still this strange coldness about her that made Alec feel like he was the unwelcomed party inside the room, which was strange considering how it was his son they were visiting.

 

`Tiles!´ the little girl in Mrs. Hale’s arms cried out, reaching out towards Genim eyes wide and desperate, little tears escaping as she struggled against her mother’s hold, `Tiles!´

 

`Honey, remember what I told you.´ Talia says only to get a tiny elbow in the eye.

 

`Tiles! Tiles!´

 

`Maybe you should all leave.´ Alec says standing up from where he was seated, but as soon as he speaks there is a familiar voice that is slightly raspy but still so very familiar to all of them.

 

`Cora?´ Genim’s eyes are still closed when he speaks, but it does still the little girl in the pretty white dress with frills and pink bows, her eyes widen for  half a second before she goes back to fighting her mother who finally relents and sets the child on the bed.

 

**~*~**

 

Cora scrambles quickly up Stiles body and throws herself on his chest, little arms doing their best to hug the boy. Thomas watches as his little princess rubs her scent into his little boy, Thomas can’t stop himself from reaching out to run his fingers through the soft hair, and at his touch the boy opens his eyes and looks straight into his and Thomas there is no stopping the smile that erupts on Thomas’ face.

 

Thomas Hale can’t help but smile because Stiles is alive and the teen makes no move to pull away from his touch.

 

`Hey there kiddo.´ Thomas says voice soft and gentle.

 

`Thomas?´ Stiles appears confused, disbelieving, and that stings because it is obvious that Stiles had not expected to see him there; and Thomas has to wonder how his little boy could think that he wouldn’t come and see him, did Stiles honestly think Thomas hadn’t tried to see him the last-time he’d ended up in the hospital? 

 

Although there’s this strange turmoil of uneasy questions running through the werewolf’s mind, Thomas just nods, still smiling although there is a terrible sadness in his heart. His hands and fingers that have caused a lot of pain to his enemies are now working gently to sooth his darling boy, fingers working through the soft hair and fingertips brushing lightly against the fragile scalp. Thomas craves to sooth and comfort Stiles, as his wolf grows anxious at the sound of the heartbeat of the boy who should belong to them and not someone so incapable as Alec Stilinski; the beats behind the ribcage that would be so easily broken warns Thomas that all is not well with his little-human-boy, the heart tells him and his wolf that the human body is slowly trying to kill his son.  

 

`Tiles.´ Cora purrs as Stiles moves his trembling hand to rest against her back, she sighs happily at the contact.

 

`How are you feeling sweetie?´ Talia asks as she moves a bit closer to Stiles, her hand sneaking into Stiles’ fragile one squeezing it gently. Stiles swallows a few times, struggling to bring out his voice.

 

`Tiered.´ Stiles answers, then swallows again which has Thomas quickly reaching for the cup with a bendy-straw and offers it to Stiles who tells Talia he’s fine but tiered and that he just wants to go home. Once he has spoken Stiles takes the straw into his mouth aided by Thomas and begins to drink greedily. Thomas feels a sense of pride that he had known what Stiles needed; he knew what Stiles father did not, which only confirms what Thomas had already know and that is the he Thomas Hale would be more suitable parent to Stiles than the silly little man in the plastic chair.

 

`Better? ´ Thomas asks, fingers diving back into the feather-soft hair of Stiles Stilinski.  Thomas is unable to keep himself from smiling when Stiles nods.

 

`Tiles.´ Cora says demanding attention from the boy who turns his gaze towards her, and she sits up straddling him and holding up the wolf plushy she’d brought with her; it’s old and the grey and white coat has seen better days, she’s had the toy since birth and it’s her favorite one even if it’s missing an ear and a leg.

 

`Hey Cora.´ Stiles says, voice slightly broken and Thomas worries that Cora might be a bit too heavy for Stiles but the teen makes no sign of wanting her off of him. Stiles looks exhausted but still he forces a smile to rise on his lips, and a hand to brush aside a few of the stray hairs that hang over Cora’s pretty face, his long slender fingers brushing them gently behind Cora’s ear the touch has Cora’s eyes closing for a brief passing of time and she leans into the touch like a touch-starved child would.

 

`You look far too pretty to be here.´ Stiles says his words soft and praising, which has Cora blushing a bright pink color from her forehead all the way down her neck. Still she shoved her toy at Stiles with an air of pride, and then she tells the boy beneath her that the toy is for him.

 

`He plotect you.´ Cora says, promises really. Then she drops back down on Stiles who thanks Cora with a quick peck on her forehead, then the two just lay there eyes closed and Thomas wishes he could crawl up next to them; if they were back at the Hale house, if they told Stiles all about what they were, then they could all cuddle up together.

 

Thomas would love nothing more than do just that, have Stiles back home in _his_ house, eating the food Abigail prepared and running around the house with Cora and the other children, going off walking in the woods with Thomas and Derek while talking about this and that. There isn’t enough rooms left to give Stiles his own room, but Thomas is sure that Derek wouldn’t mind too much sharing his room with Stiles.

 

If Stiles was a Hale he would never have been allowed to end up this sick and thin, Stiles would never have been allowed to commit this slow suicide by starvation. Stiles would never have been given a reason to starve his young life away the way he had been doing for as long as Thomas could remember.  

 

Thomas reaches out to hold the hand of his mate as his fantasies become too much, because he knows that as long as Alec Stilinski is around then Thomas will be unable to take the boy. He can only accept what Stiles is ready to give him.

 

 


	32. You and Us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There was no denying that Thomas enjoyed pretending to be Stiles father, and there was a need for Talia to pretend that she had faith in Mr. Stilinski’s parental skills.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the Cora and Walter Matthau thing, I have no idea why I did that…

 

Getting out of the hospital was much harder than Stiles could ever have imagined, it seemed almost like once they had him they were less than eager to let him leave. Stiles hated the hospital and the doctors, hated the way the place smelled and the way everyone treated him like an imbecile, none of the nurses seemed to trust him to eat his lunch or dinner alone. Then there were the Hale’s that kept on coming to visit him, Thomas in the morning with breakfast and Derek during the day with either Laura or his mother and Cora, Abigail or Richard and his mate would arrive with lunch and then in the evening several Hale’s would arrive with dinner.

 

Stiles wasn’t sure how he felt about the Hale’s pushing their way back into his life, it was unexpected and every time Peter and his new family slipped into a conversation they all became unwanted visitors that couldn’t leave soon enough; those visits left Stiles sobbing into his pillow or left him to have a panic attack or to suffer from terrible nightmares.

 

By the time Stiles was finally allowed to leave the hospital Stiles had gained a few pounds, which had his father almost ready to throw a parade over the weight gain, he felt almost thankful over the prospect of some time alone. But he soon found out that the Talia and Thomas Hale had talked his father into having someone from their family to be around Stiles during those hours his father had to be at work.

 

**~*~**

 

Stiles felt a gentle hand stroke through his hair, it felt familiar and for a second he thought this was just another vivid part of the dream of a life before the crash that ruined his family, but as the voice calling out to him held not a single resemblance to that of his mother although it was still very gentle and held a great deal of fondness, but the lack of his mother’s voice made him realize that the pleasant dream had ended and he was to face yet another day without his mother and sister.

 

Slowly and with some effort Stiles opened his eyes only to find Talia Hale looking down at him, her fingers still smoothing out the mess his tossing and turning had created at the top of his head; Stiles had always been one to move around in his sleep, his father and mother had always joked they had to cocoon Stiles between them when he sneaked into their bed or people would have thought Alec and Claudia were in an abusive relationship.

 

`Good morning sweetheart,´ Talia said as she brushed away a lock of hair that almost reached down to the bridge of Stiles’ nose, `Your dad had to go to work early today.´

 

The Hale’s had learned soon enough to always inform Stiles where his father was if he ever awoke to find him gone, or else Stiles’ overly active imagination would throw him into a panic attack.

 

`Did you sleep well? ´ Talia asked as she continued running her fingers through Stiles’ hair.

 

Stiles gave a short nod, feeling the sadness swell in his heart when he remembered the dream he’d had about his mother, and although he’d tried to hide the ache inside him Talia leaned down to kiss his forehead and as she gave him a very motherly kiss right between his eyes smoothing out the furrows that had appeared when Stiles had attempted to battle away the tears that demanded their freedom.  

 

`Did you dream of your mother? ´ Talia asked as she pulled Stiles up to sit against the headboard of his small bed, her arm around him pulling him close to her and as soon as he gave a short nod the tears began to fall and with her free hand she cradled his cheek and pressed his head against her heart.

 

There was always the slightest feeling of guilt that whispered inside of him when he allowed himself to be comforted by another mother, there was a part of him that demanded complete and unquestioning loyalty towards his mother, but there was also that strange almost child-like part of him that simply needed any mother to give him love and affection. 

 

Talia stayed silent and simply held him, comforting him until Stiles was able to calm down, once a respectable calm had settled inside of Stiles, Talia peered down at him and asked if he was ready for breakfast; it really wasn’t a question, or an offer and Stiles knew that but he still gave a nod. Talia smiled andgave him a gentle peck on the top of his head before getting off of his bed.

 

`Get dressed, and come downstairs when you’re ready.´ Talia says before slipping out of the bedroom, leaving Stiles to pick himself up to face another day of being watched by Talia Hale or whoever she decided to sign Stiles-duty on.

 

Stiles got dressed in a hurry remembering of impatient Talia could get when it came to get Stiles out of bed and down for breakfast, he pulled on a pair of jeans that he had worn for the past two days and a t-shirt and a dark-red hoodie before hurrying out of the room only to run into Derek who had obviously been sent to fetch him.

 

Derek grabbed Stiles by the arm before Stiles was able to fall to the floor in an ungraceful heap.

 

`Sorry about that.´ Derek apologized with a voice barely above a whisper, eyes darting all over the place, `Mother dearest will kill me if you get hurt.´ that piece of information didn’t surprise Stiles too much; Talia and Thomas seemed a bit overly-protective over Stiles.

 

`We should go downstairs.´ Stiles said pulling his arm free from Derek, the grip had been just the tad bit on the bruising side. Derek nods and as they descend the stairs the older teenager ruffles Stiles hair like an affectionate brother might do, and leans in to whisper, `We’re being dragged off somewhere, and I think it’s for a haircut.´

 

`W-what? ´ Stiles stutters out in disbelief, because surely Talia Hale wasn’t about to drag him off to get his haircut? Stiles did not have fond memories of having his hair cut, he has s few scars from the times anyone but his mother had tried to tame the madness that was Stiles’ unruly hair.

 

`Kids, get a move on!´ Thomas’ voice rang from the kitchen but before the string of words were even finished he was already standing at the foot of the stairs beaming up at Stiles and Derek, `Good morning Stiles.´

 

`Morning, ´ Stiles answered as respectfully as he could even while feeling like all theHale’s were intruding on his life, he didn’t fight against the hug Thomas gave him instead he leaned into it and savored it; he might not take too kindly to being watched over all the time, but he could still appreciate the touches and embraces the family of werewolves so eagerly gave him.

 

`Talia’s made French-toast,´ Thomas informed while he smoothed out the mess Derek had made of Stiles’ hair, `It’s the one thing she can make without burning the house down.´

 

`I heard that!´ Talia snapped from the kitchen, while Cora started to call out for Stiles, but then the Alpha of the one and only pack in Beacon Hills called them all into the kitchen voice alive and light with laughter.

 

`Tiles!´ Cora yelled in a very overly excited sort of way, little hands waving about and almost knocking down her cup of juice but Talia managed to stop theflood of yellow liquid, `Tiles. Sit.´ Cora said quickly pointing at the chair next to her, it wasn’t Stiles’ usual spot but he would of course indulge the little girl with pigtails and the periwinkle-blue dress sitting on a mountain of cushions and phonebooks.

 

`Cora, ´ Talia says with a slight growl, `This is Stiles’ home and he sits where he wants too and not where you tell him too.´ Cora gives her mother a disgruntled look that makes Stiles think for some strange reason of Walter Matthau when the actor in his formable years, but then Cora smiles up at Stiles who is making a move to sit where Cora had demanded him to place himself down upon, `You sit, I follow.´

 

**~*~**

 

When Alec Stilinski had called in the early hours of the morning Talia had felt a flood of dread spread through her; had Stiles’ heart finally beat its last beat or had he slit his wrists once more? She answered the call that came too early in the morning to leave her feeling at ease,  she was grateful that Thomas was still out running with the pack for his presence would have unnerved her even more, her hands trembled and when Alec’s nervous voice spoke to her asking Talia if someone could come over to his house and stay with Stiles because he had been called to work; Talia and Thomas had been already prepared to spend the day with Stiles as Mr. Stilinski had to work and so it was not too much of a stretch for her to head off to the Stilinski’s a few hours earlier than expected.

 

Talia had left the house in a hurry, leaving but a simple note with an explanation to the reason of her sudden departure, and laying out orders on the side for Peter and Martha as well as Thomas and Abigail and the rest of her pack who had no plans for this particular Saturday.

 

She drives to the Stilinski house only just keeping to the speeding limits, Talia doesn’t trust Alec Stilinski not to leave his son alone in the house even if it would be for only ten or so minutes; the man has no idea of how broken his son is, but Talia does and she will do everything in her power to make sure the boy does not suffer needlessly do to the foolishness of a human-father.

 

Talia might defend Alec Stilinski when her mate goes on his rantsabout the failure that is Alec Stilinski, and she might hold her tongue when it comes to her own harsh opinions on the man, but none of it means she isn’t highly protective of Stiles and would trust Mr. Stilinski blindly; no, she does not trust the man, not since it became clear how incredibly useless the man was in caring for his young son.

 

The downstairs windows glowed in the still dark morning while the upstairs windows stood dark against the walls of the simple house, and as she parks her car next to the cruiser that is like one gigantic advertisement sign to the carrier choice of the man who had called her house in the early hours of Saturday morning.

 

The scent of coffee sneaks out into the silent morning as soon as she steps out of her car reminds her that she’d left her own cup of coffee on the kitchen counter forgetting it in her haste to reach the Stilinski house before the Deputy left for work. The delicious scent of caffeine has her mouth-watering.  

 

Talia is just about to knock at the door when it swings open revealing one Alec Stilinski wearing a uniform that smelled like it hadn’t been washed for several days, and there were a few coffee-stains and the man looked like he had only slept for a few hours and needed a hundred more.

 

`Morning Mrs. Hale.´ Mr. Stilinski said while trying to button up his shirt while balancing a cup of coffee in his hand, `I wasn’t expecting you so soon.´

 

Talia does her best to show none of her true feelings towards the man, she smiles her warm and most charming of smiles before speaking, `I was up when you called, and with nothing to do.´

 

`Thank you for coming so quickly, ´ Mr. Stilinski said while he held the door open for Talia, `There’s some coffee left in the pot.´

 

Talia still finds the Stilinski house a rather worthless accommodation for someone she considers hers, she would of course never speak so crudely about the house in front of her mother or children or Stiles; but it does not leave her own mind from pointing out all the wrongs of the house.

 

The house is too gloomy and small for a bright boy; there are not enough books for the boy to learn from, or enough warmth to keep the coldness from the thin body.

 

`I need to go. But if anything happens or if…´ Mr. Stilinski begins while looking like he can’t get out of the house fast enough, so Talia gives him what little mercy she can give by telling him they’ll be alright. With a nod and a quick thank you the Deputy leaves.

 

Talia spent the first hour doing some of Stiles’ laundry, when she’d emptied the washer she found a sheet that had been washed only hours ago but with her heightened sense of smell the stench of urine and fear were right there in the sheets; a whine escaped from her as she placed the sheet back in the washer, as well as a shirts that belonged to Stiles, she would not wash his father’s clothes simply because she did not care for the man and she would never lower herself to wash another man’s clothes. It hurt her heart to find Stiles still wetting the bed, and she was more than sure that Alec Stilinski had no idea about it; of course he had been aware of the bedwetting in the beginning, the plastic covers on the mattress told as much but she was sure he was deluding himself with the wellbeing of his only child.

 

When she had washed the dishes she decided to drop in on Stiles, to make sure he was safely tucked away in his bed she made no sound as she entered the small room. Talia had been there before but still she found the room too small for a boy such as Stiles. The smell of restless sleep and the ghostly scent of urine which only a dogs or a wolfs nose could pick-up were mixed together with dirty-laundry and the lovely scent of Stiles Stilinski.

 

Talia walked over to the bed where the boy lay arms and legs spread out, the covers had migrated to the floor as had one of the pillows, she quickly tucked the boy back under the covers his tossing and turning had dropped to the floor; she placed the head gently on the pillow she saved off of the floor, she could have left it at that but when she moved the child and tucked him in she heard Stiles whimper out one word, `mama.´ The sound was so desperate and sad that it had her sliding down to lay down next to the child, wrapping him up in her arms and at once the child settled down into a deep peaceful sleep.

 

The Alpha of the Hale pack staid next to the boy until she could hear her mate arriving with two of their children, before leaving the child she kissed his cheek and wished he would sleep peacefully until it was time for breakfast.

 

`How is he?´ Thomas asked as soon as he walked into the small house, tilting his head slightly so he could listen to the sounds coming from upstairs, Derek slipped in and past his parents with a still sleeping Cora in his arms.

 

`Fine. Sleeping.´ Talia answered while wrapping her arms around her mate, soaking in his scent while Derek took his little sister into the living-room and laying himself down on the couch, wrapping his body around his sister and soon both of them were sound asleep on the couch.

 

`You smell worried.´ Thomas noted as they moved into the kitchen, `Why? ´

 

`He’s still wetting the bed.´ Talia answered with a tight voice, `and keeping it from his father. I suspect he’s having nightmares.´

 

A sound that broke her heart escaped from her mate who ran his fingers through his beautiful hair, eyes devastated as he looked up at the ceiling as if trying to see the child he loved so dearly. Talia wanted coffee but she knew her mate needed her attention far more than what she needed coffee, so she abandoned her own wants and wrapped herself around her mate.

 

`We’ll mend him my love.´ Talia reassures her mate, kissing him lovingly because how could she not love him more now than what she had done in her youth; how could she not love Thomas with every fiber of her being when he cared so greatly for a boy she hoped to one day have in her pack and in her family.

 

`We’ll heal his wounds and make him strong again.´ Thomas says as he rests his forehead against Talia’s, their arms still wrapped around each other.

 

**~*~**

 

Usually Thomas Hale did not enjoy trips to the mall, but with the prospect of doing so with both his boys Thomas had no ill-thoughts about the day trip to the large mall that held everything from shops for outdooring to jewels and even a barbershop, andbecause the mall wasn’t located in Beacon Hills but in the next town the werewolf was able to slip back into the bad habit of letting his fantasies of being the father of Stiles Stilinski alter his behavior. Thomas knows he shouldn’t slip into the creepy pretense of being Stiles father, he knows it does him no good, but he can’t help himself when he is walking both his boy’s to the barbershop to get their messy hairs trimmed. Thomas makes no attempts at correcting any of the assumptions of the two men working that Saturday regarding his paternity to thetwo boys that had by then slipped into a conversation about what they wanted to do at the mall, it pleases Thomas that he is seen as Stiles father and it pleases him even more to see how for the time being Stiles has slipped into being just another kid at the mall.

 

Thomas makes it clear to both of the men what his mates wants to be done to the messy hairs that stick up on their kids heads, before telling both boys to take a seat. With a grumble Derek obeys, and Stiles twitches slightly as he moves to take his seat which has Thomas seated next to Stiles and taking his fragile hand into his hands that have crushed bones without breaking a sweat;Thomas had early on in their strange little relationship learned that he could ease the nervous energy in the human-boy by a simple touch, and considering how there would be sharp items near his precious kid he had to hold on to the boy, there was not a chance in Hades that Stiles would be losing an ear when Thomas was around.

 

Feeling Stiles relax in the seat, feeling the nervous ticks depart with the simple contact between him and Stiles confirms what Thomas firmly believes to be true; Stiles belongs to him and not Alec Stilinski.

 

When the trimming of unruly sets of hair had been finished it was time for ice-cream, as they make their way towards the ice-cream stand Thomas calls Talia telling her to grab Cora and come for some ice-cream with him and their boys. They sit down at one of the tables to wait for Cora and Talia, Thomas sitting next to Stiles because if any hint of anxiety would start to rise then Thomas was there to give Stiles comfort, they didn’t have to wait too long for Talia and Cora to arrive; Cora who quickly limbed up into Stiles lap, asking him if he liked her pretty pink fingernails with pretty little white flowers decorating every other finger.

 

`How was he?´ Talia asks as she and Thomas make their way to the ice-cream bar, Thomas shrugs his shoulders but says still, `Fine. A bit nervous but he’s calmed down.´ Talia slips her arm around his waist and leans into his side, resting her head against his shoulder, breathing in and out a few times before finally speaking, `He’s a strange little boy.´  They can hear Cora laughing with delight at the little tale Stiles tells her.

 

`And we love him for it.´ Thomas chuckles and Talia agrees.

 

**~*~**

 

Finding that his son was no longer at home when he stopped by his house for lunch was not a shock to Alec Stilinski, the Hale’s had a habit of taking Genim out and about without informing him. There was always this small feeling inside of Alec that made him think that the Hale’s were trying to ignore the fact that he was Genim’s father.

 

He shook his head, willing the thoughts of the Hale’s out of his mind as he made his way into the kitchen to grab something for lunch. There wasn’t even a note on the fridge telling him where Talia had taken his son, he should of course be enraged by this or at least worried about it but Alec is grateful that there are people interested in helping him with Genim considering how he had no idea of how to help his boy.

 

Alec makes a sandwich and grabs a can of Mountain Dew before heading back out; but he pauses at the steps to his house when he sees a large brown envelop sitting there on the steps, his name written in large dark letters calling out to him.

 

 

 


	33. Lego House

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I built a Lego house all colorful and nice, a family of happily little people I chose lived there until the house crumble and fell, and all those pretty little pieces were spread out on the floor and the happy little illusion was no more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING! If you have a problem with reading about someone (Peter) suffocating a helpless child then do please skip the first part of this chapter!! I have warned you so do not come after me with bats. 
> 
> I'm sorry it took me this long to post this chapter, been really sick. Sorry. I'll try and do better in the future, at least hopefully when my meds start to work.

 

Peter was growing impatient with his infant daughter who hadn’t stopped her wailing even after he had given her the bottle and changed her soiled diaper, he’d walked about the house rubbing her back and telling her to shut-the-fuck-up several times between humming lullabies and throwing out threats about tossing her out of the upstairs window or dropping her down the stairs until she learned to be quiet, he might have also once or twice threatened to drown her in the bathtub or in a great big pot of boiling water. If anyone of the pack had been there he would have passed her over to one of them, but everyone was out for the day; even Martha had taken off because apparently spending every hour with her child wasn’t what she had imagined her life to turn-out as. 

 

Peter glared down at the child that was incredibly unattractive with all the wrinkles and roundness of the ugly little features, and not to mention how annoying the child was in its helplessness and uselessness, growing impatient he decided to use a trick he had learned the first-time he had been left alone to care of the child that had been given such a tedious and meaningless name as Jennifer, he covered the open mouth and nose with his hand holding the struggling infant waiting patiently for the moment it would stop to struggle; he could kill it so easily, but he suspected the sudden death would raise questions within the pack so that option was abandoned. 

 

As soon as the child stopped struggling and went slack in his arms he uncovered the mouth and dropped the child in the small crib in _his_ bedroom. He didn’t bother tucking in the child, and so he simply walked out of the room closing the door behind him only to hear the front-door of the house open and then Talia’s cheerful voice saying, ` We’re not having pizza Derek, you’ve already had enough junk food to day. So stop complaining, we’re having tomato soup.´ Derek let out an unhappy groan. 

 

`Don’t worry kids, we’ll have stake later I bought some fine meat yesterday.´ Thomas’ voice ran loudly with laughter. 

 

_Interesting,_ Peter thought as he moved towards the stairs, _why tell such a silly little lie?_

 

`You’ve not gone vegetarian on me Stiles? ´ Thomas laughed and Peter stopped moving, and when he heard Stiles Stilinski answer, `No. Never will.´ Peter’s heart began to race and he took in the scent of the boy that some would say he had ruined; and Peter did agree that indeed that he had done. 

 

Stiles had lost the scent of the Alpha Ennis who had failed Peter miserably. There was not a single hint of the werewolf or the hospital, which was a blessing because the stench of Ennis and the hospital had never sat well with Peter; especially Ennis’ smell had always been like a slap in the face due to the fact that the Alpha had failed at the task Peter had given him. 

 

`That’s my boy.´ Thomas laughed and Peter was sure that his Alpha’s mate pulled the boy into a one armed hug. 

 

Peter walked slowly down the stairs, doing his best not to make a single sound as he moved down the old stairs. He halted his descend the moment he caught sight of Genim “Stiles” Stilinski.  Peter had no idea what he had been expecting, had he perhaps expected to see the boy completely ruined or had he expected something more like the boy he had created before Peter had destroyed him?

 

What Peter found was a Stiles that was somewhere between the two ideas he had of the boy; the boy looked slightly healthier now than what he had been in the hospital, still there was this brittleness to him that made Peter think that a single touch could create enough cracks that would break the boy into tiny flakes of white snow, the skin was pale almost white but there was this glow there that was not created by fever, there was a shy smile on the lips Peter had once kissed and nibbled but the eyes that had once held some resemblance of innocent and youth held none of it; the boy may look alive but there was very little left alive of the boy Peter had taken to bed. 

 

It felt stranger seeing Stiles right there, there was a peculiar restlessness inside of him when he was made to look at Thomas and Stiles; his Alpha’s mate had his arm over Stiles’ shoulder, the werewolf held the human close to his side so close that it looked like the two were attached. Thankfully Talia demanded her mate to come to her aide in the kitchen, seeing Thomas release the boy made the odd sensation inside his chest ease-up enough to allow him to breathe again. 

 

`Tiles! Come.´ Cora shouted from the living-room and without looking up at Peter Stiles hurried to obey Cora, it was times like these that Peter appreciated Stiles being just a simple human and not a werewolf. 

 

Peter could leave and return back upstairs and hide in his room until the human left for his own home, but Peter can’t just walk away not when Stiles was so close.

 

Silently Peter stalks towards the den, he finds Stiles on the floor with Cora and Derek, on his hands and knees pretending to be Cora royal steed. The sight of Stiles on his hands and knees makes Peter want to grab Cora and throw her aside and take what he wanted; he knows that the moment the scent of his arousal hits the air that Derek and Talia and his brother-in-law will not be happy to find him lusting over the human boy. But he can’t help the want he feels; it is that want he taps into during the nights when Martha’s needs demand Peter’s attention.  

 

Derek is the first to react, he gets up from where he had been pretending to be a dragon coming to destroy the kingdom of the fine princess Cora, he leaps up from where he had been huffing and puffing going to stand protectively in front of Stiles and Cora; eyes flashing blue telling Peter to back-off before things got ugly, it is a warning Peter does not take as he takes one step closer he just needs something more. 

 

Derek growls out his name and that seals it for Peter and he knows it. 

 

But even when the loud raging roar comes, and one enraged Thomas Hale comes bursting into the room, Peter is unable to turn his gaze away from Stiles who is backing into a corner and curling in on himself while repeating one single word over and over again, `No.´ Stiles had in his haste to get away from Peter and find shelter in the corner of the room, dropped little Cora off of his back leaving the little girl to now crawl after the boy that smelled of nothing but absolute terror. Before Peter can say or do anything to defuse the situation there’s a clawed hand around Peter’s throat.

 

 Peter gets a chance to catch a glimpse of Stiles huddle closer to the wall while Cora reaches her little hands out to touch the frightened boy before he’s thrown out of the house rather violently. 

 

~*~

 

Thomas had just finished nibbling at his mates earlobe, he’s want for Talia grown by the way she had behaved so motherly towards Stiles allowing Thomas to entertain the thought that they were all a proper family especially as she now was preparing lunch for them which was not the norm, when an unwanted stench reached him and then the sound of his son growling out one single name which has Thomas in action. He can hear the frightened patter of Stiles heart and that sound shatters Thomas’ control and he shifts in mid-sprint, roaring with rage and without thought he grabs the Beta by the throat and the stench of thick fear that came from _his_ boy has Thomas out of control; he throws Peter out of the house, through the thick and heavy front-door of the their house and leaps right after him with only one though in his mind and that is to end Peter-fucking-Hale. 

 

The Beta appears to get what Thomas is about to do and so he bolts in a feeble attempt to escape death, but Thomas will have the twisted dark heart that beats inside the Beta out and he will present it to his son as proof that the monster is dead and gone. To show his pup that he will do anything to protect him.

 

They run deeper into the forest that falls silent, or perhaps Thomas is deaf to all other sounds than the disgusting heartbeat he chases with murderous hunger. 

 

Thomas doesn’t stop chasing the Beta that had done something to frighten the precious heart of his pup, not even the Beta does its hardest to get him off of its trail. Nothing will get Thomas to stop nothing but the sudden weight that slams into him; it pins him to the ground but in his rage Thomas throws it off of him and lunges at the Beta who has foolishly paused its run and is now cautiously watching and waiting to see what will happen next. 

 

`STOP IT! ´ Talia roars as she tackles Thomas back to the ground, and he hates her for that and tries to get rid of  his mate who pins him down to the ground, she uses every limb she has against him and her Alpha strength is superior to his and so he soon gives in and only snarls out, `He did something. You saw how afraid he was.´ 

 

`I did nothing.´ Peter says defensively while trying to catch enough air into his lunges to keep his body functional. Thomas would rather prefer it if Peter just dropped dead. 

 

`HE’S LYING!´  Thomas roars as best he can with the weight of his enraged Alpha on top of him.

 

`I swear I did not speak to him. I did not touch him.´ Peter said backing away from Thomas and Talia, he actually seemed scared and he really should be terrified because the moment Thomas would get free he would make their “training sessions” feel like a walk in the park.

 

`LIAR! ´ Thomas roared, but Talia hit him over the head and roared at him, `He’s not! Listen to his heart.´ 

 

`I swear to you,´ Peter does swear on his own life, which is something he never does if he had sworn on the life of his nieces or nephew or even his own daughter no one would have believed him, `I did not touch him or speak to him. I didn’t even say his name or Hi or anything.´ 

 

Thomas couldn’t hear a lie, but that still didn’t explain Stiles reaction and he said as much. 

 

`I have no idea,´  Peter says as he stops backing away from Thomas and Talia, `I swear I have no idea why he reacted the way he did.´ There’s an air of frustration when Peter continues to say,  `I have no fucking clue to what happened, he was fine and then he wasn’t.´ 

 

Unable to believe Peter has Thomas fighting against the hold of his Alpha, which of course makes Talia tighten her of Thomas when he tries yet again to get to Peter, `Thomas’ he doesn’t know what happened.´ 

 

`I swear if I _ever_ find out what you did, I will kill you!´ Thomas roars at Peter who looks pleadingly at his sister, who orders Peter to stay away from the house until she calls for him. 

 

~*~

 

Controlling an out of control Thomas was difficult enough without adding his strong desire to see the insides of Peter on the outside of his body, it took every inch of her Alpha statues to force Thomas to submit to her when all he wanted was to shred Peter into nothing.

 

By overpowering her mate and reminding him who the Alpha was she managed to get Thomas to stop his want to chase and kill Peter. It was anything but a simple task to keep Thomas from chasing Peter again, but there they were making their way back towards the house, Thomas sulking and Talia – well, she was simply worried about the kids. 

 

Talia was suffering through doubts she had when it came to leaving the children alone in the house with one of them visible upset, and when she heard her mate call out, `Cora?´ the moment they came through the trees and into the yard that surrounded the Hale House. 

 

`Cora?´ Thomas called out with what had been just a hint of alarm now blooming out into a great big flare, they found Cora standing in the yard holding the teddy bear she’d got from the mall earlier that day, tears running down her round little cheeks and a bit of snot was dribbling down her adorable little button nose. 

 

`Daddy!´ Cora sobs out as she runs towards Thomas who catches her immediately into his strong arms, she buries her tear and snot covered face into her father’s shoulder distressed and pleading for her daddy. 

 

`Princess, what’s wrong? ´ Thomas asks as he cradles his little girl, who is only able to say, `Help Tiles.´ 

 

Talia bolts towards the house and Thomas follows with Cora still cradles in his arms. They found Derek sitting in the corner where Stiles had been huddled in, and Derek was wrapped around Stiles trying to keep Stiles breathing; telling Stiles to breathe in and out, telling Stiles that everything would be alright that he was safe and sound. 

 

`He won’t calm down.´ Derek says with desperation, looking for guidance from his mother who reaches out to pull Stiles into her arms, hoping she could calm the fears inside of the boy. The boy in her arms shivers and whimpers as she holds him. She can feel every struggle the frail body suffers when it tries to keep itself going.

 

`Calm down, sweetheart, you need to calm down you are safe. You are safe.´ Talia repeats as she picks up the boy and carries him to the couch and there she sits with the boy in her lap. 

 

Talia watches as Thomas takes their daughter upstairs promising her with a soft voice that Stiles will be fine, telling her that Talia would make it all better and Cora believes it with all her heart and soul because her mother isn’t just her mother but also an Alpha. Derek stands nearby anxiously watching as his mother tries to calm his friend down. 

 

It takes Talia several minutes to get Stiles to calm down, and when she does Stiles is simply too exhausted to stay conscious. 

 

`Is he alright? ´ Derek asks with an air of panic when Stiles goes absolutely limp in Talia’s arms. 

 

`He just needs to rest.´ is all Talia can say because who knows if Stiles will ever be alright, she lays the boy carefully down on the couch and tucks him in carefully, `We should get lunch started, he’ll be hungry when he wakes-up.´ 

 

`He was fine and then Peter came in,´ Derek says as he watches his mother care for Stiles, there’s a tightness in his voice that tells Talia that Derek will not leave Peter be until he has answers to why Stiles had such a strong reaction to his presence.

 

`Did Peter do anything?´ Talia asks as she walks into the kitchen, Derek following her closely, she needs to be sure Peter didn’t say or do anything to push Stiles into such a horrible state.

 

`No. No he just – he didn’t say a word or touch Stiles. But the moment Stiles saw him, he just lost it. Peter’s done _something_ too him.´ Talia gives a short nod, Peter hadn’t been lying but still if he had then there might have been an answer to the reaction Stiles had. But Talia had her suspicions that Peter wasn’t telling her everything, perhaps her brother had indeed done _something_. 

 

~*~

 

Stiles isn’t out cold for long, maybe twenty-minutes if even that, but still it feels like forever to Derek who sits near the couch, watching over the boy. His father is there as well but unlike Derek his dad is standing near the doorway, like a guard-dog waiting for a threat (Peter) to come at any moment. Neither father nor son had spoken after the clipped conversation about what had happened before Stiles lost it, both had gone silent once their Alpha growled at them and demanded they both be silent so that Stiles could rest. 

 

Stiles starts to stir as the scent of their lunch starts to waft into Stiles senses causing the stomach to growl a sound that was rare, when Stiles starts to turn Derek settles himself in Stiles’ line of sight and his dad hurries to do the same. 

 

There’s a look of confusion in Stiles’ eyes as he looks at Derek and then at Thomas, his heartbeat is still calm from sleep and it takes Stiles a moment to get his mind on track, well enough so to slur out a simple question, ` Why ‘m on couch?´ 

 

A long drawn out yawn escapes Stiles as he rubs his face against the cushion that has a stain of drool Stiles had created in his slumber, he makes a face when his cheek rubs against the spot. 

 

Derek can’t help the chuckle that escapes him. 

 

`Dude, you sound crazy.´ Stiles says as he sits up, mind less sleep-crippled, eyes darting around the room trying to figure out what was going on. 

 

Derek watches his father walk over to place a comforting hand on Stiles’ shoulder, squeezing it gently and it’s more for his father’s comfort than Stiles’ and Derek wonders when exactly his father had grown so fond of his friend.

 

`You had a panic attack.´ Derek tells Stiles as the boy tries to stand, but he sways ever so slightly and Derek and his dad hurry to support him.

 

`Peter.´ Stiles groans and covers his face with his hands, forcing his breathing to calm as another attack threatens to take him over. 

 

`Yes.´ Derek sighs.

 

`I-is h-he here s-s-still? ´ Stiles asks voice trembling. 

 

`No.´ Thomas answers as he guides Stiles back on the couch. 

 

`I w-w-want to go h-h-home.´ Stiles says voice trembling. They can all hear the nervousness in every word and each beat of the fragile heart.

 

`Not yet dear, you need to eat.´ Talia says as she comes barring a tray of food; Derek sees the brokenness of his mother’s smile. 

 

The baby upstairs starts to wail, and Derek thinks he’s going to be sent to care for his young cousin, but his mother nods at Thomas who grumbles a few chosen words about Peter’s and his mates worthlessness. Stiles stares fearfully at the tray Talia sets on the coffee-table, Derek can hear the fear in Stiles’ heart at the sight of the soup and it makes him whine.  

 

`I’m not hungry.´ Stiles says, but his stomach protests loudly, which makes him blush. Talia slips down beside Stiles. 

 

`You need to eat dear.´ Derek hears his mother say through the loud thumping of Stiles heart, the panic is slowly rising and Derek almost feels and urge to grab the bowl of soup and throw it away, but they’d talked about Stiles’ health and what needed to be done to keep the boy alive and so Derek sits in the armchair his sister prefers to park herself down on, sitting on his hands to assure that he will not act on his instinct. 

 

Talia takes the bowl in her hands and offers it to Stiles, who looks like he’s about to burst in tears because he has to know that Talia won’t let him leave without eating first, and so with shaking hands Stiles takes the bowl and starts to eat with tears in his eyes. Derek watches as his mother gently rubs Stiles back and whispering comforting words with each spoon that slips into Stiles mouth. 

 

`I w-w-want to g-go h-h-home.´ Stiles says half-way through the soup, eyes filled with tears and the bowl abandoned on the coffee-table that had pliantly of scratches and claw marks as well as bite marks.  

 

`No.´ Thomas answers from the doorway leading out into the hall, there’s finality to the word that it has even Derek flinching.

 

~*~

 

Stiles is shocked by Thomas telling him no and so he turns to look over at the man who had usually always sided with him, but as soon as he looks over at the werewolf he needs to leave, he needs to be at home curled up in his bed. There’s only one child that had recently been born into the Hale family and that was Peter Hale’s baby girl, and Stiles had been perfectly aware of the child but still seeing it there in Thomas’ arms was just too much. 

 

Stiles stares at the child cradled in Thomas’ arms while the werewolf was feeding the little girl with a bottle, and Stiles just couldn’t handle it there’s an unpleasant ache in his chest and he needs to get out, he needs to leave andhe forces himself to stand and even with Derek’s and Talia protests Stiles stumbles his way past Thomas and out of the house; he can’t breathe and his heart feels like there’s this hand squeezing it so incredibly tightly untilhe can’t think of anything but the pain. 

 

`Stiles, honey, let’s get you inside and you can rest…´ Talia says but Stiles shakes his head, grabbing at his left arm that has started to feel strange and the world is spinning out of control and he needs to get home; he needs to get away from the Hale’s, he needs to get away from Peter, he needs to get away from the baby, he needs to be alone and he yells exactly that at the people who are looking at him like he had just torn out their still beating hearts. 

 

Realizing how badly he has just behaved has Stiles crying, he is simply too exhausted to try and pretend he’s alright that seeing Peter and seeing his kid hasn’t just destroyed yet another part in him. But instead of being furious with him Talia is there her protective arms wrapped around him, gentle kisses peppering the top of his head. 

 

`I t-th-thought h-he l-loved m-me.´ Stiles sobs grasping at Talia as if she could save him from the pain he was experiencing.

 

`I know. I know.´ Talia says as softly as she can, and together the sink down to their knees on the soft ground, `I know baby.´

 

`H-h-he said,´ Stiles sobs before hiccupping, `t-t-that he l-l-loved m-me.´ Talia’s arms tighten around him, and he knows she is trying her hardest to comfort him, she kisses him and whisper soft and rubs the strain out of his back. 

 

`I’m sure he did care for you, in his own way.´ Talia tries to say with conviction, Thomas snorts at her words while Derek whimpers, and Stiles shakes his head.

 

`N-n-no h-he di-di-didn’t.´ Stiles says it as firmly as possible and looks into the eyes of the Alpha almost challengingly, which Stiles knows is a no-no, `I’m n-n-nothing t-to h-h-him, j-j-just a h-h-hole f-f-f-for him to u-u-use.´ 

 

Talia releases her arms from around Stiles and she frames his face and demands him to look her in the eye, to see the truth and seriousness that glows him them, her voice is firm and unrelenting as she speaks, `You are not NOTHING. You are Stiles.´ 

 

Stiles tries to shake free from Talia’s hold but she will not allow him to sink into self-loathing as easily as he had thought he could, `You are a boy whom I love like a son. You are the boy who has become a second-son to my husband and a brother to my son. You are like a grand-child to my mother. You are not NOTHING Stiles, you will never be NOTHING.´ To finish her words she wraps Stiles back into her arms and just holds him while Stiles starts to sob once more uncontrollably.

 

~*~

 

Peter knows he shouldn’t be there, he knows he shouldn’t be there up in the great tree that gives him both coverage and the perfect view of the yard surrounding the Hale House; he can see the interaction between Talia and Stiles. It was hard to watch the way his Alpha showed her adoration towards the boy who wasn’t really pack, it was hard to see how much his own sister loved the human boy; how she preferred him above her own brother and the niece he had given her. Peter would never agree that he was suffering from a sense of jealousy, but the truth was that it did make him feel uncomfortable watching how Stiles gave his tears to Talia who took them like the precious pearls they were. 

 

Peter did flinch slightly at the opinion Stiles had of himself, even if Peter had to some extent used those words when speaking about Stiles, it still made something ice-cold seep into his belly. 

 

He watched as Stiles broke-down and how Talia did her best to ease the suffering Peter and his presence had caused the Stilinski boy. Peter watched as Stiles was comforted until he could speak clearly enough to make everyone hear and understand what he was saying. Peter didn’t even dare to move or breathe due to the fear he had that he might miss Stiles telling Talia _everything_ , he was afraid that he would miss the reasons behind Stiles’ overly dramatic reaction when finally coming face to face with Peter. But what Stiles says is not what he had been expecting. 

 

`I-if I’m n-n-not w-wrong in s-s-someway, th-then w-w-why d-d-does e-everyone h-hate m-me?´ 

 

Peter nearly falls from his perch the wind carries the scent of tears and self-loathing to him, Peter digs his claws into the thick heavy branch supporting his weight and stares down at Stiles and Talia. 

 

`Wh-why d-does ev-everyone h-h-hurt m-m-me?´ Peter feels a lump in his throat as Stiles asks the question with such sincerity that it’s almost shocking, `I-i-if th-there’s n-nothing w-wrong w-w-with m-me, th-then wh-why d-did m-my mum l-l-leave me?´ and at that Peter hurried out of the tree and deeper into the Preserve, he needed to get a great amount of distance between him and Stiles, he needed to become deaf to the child and Talia who tried to make the boy understand that his mother hadn’t willingly abandoned her child. 

 

Peter shifts into his Beta form and just runs, and runs until he realizes where he’s run too. He stares up at the lonely house, there are no heartbeats to be heard from within the building, and the scent of the girl was almost completely gone and Stiles was rather potent as was the Deputies; Peter watches the house and breathes in the scent and it draws him closer and closer to the building until he’s suddenly climbing up the tree outside Stiles Stilinski’s bedroom window. Without much understanding he finds himself inside of the bedroom of a teenage boy, it all smells of Stiles and a hint of Talia as well and then as he sniffs the bed he can smell the stench of fear and urine it makes him frown. 

 

`Why are you wetting your bed?´  Peter asks and then he looks around the room as if the room held the key to the bedwetting, `What has frightened you so, hmmm?´ Peter walks around the room and touches a few things until he hears a car pulling to a stop outside the house, he recognizes the heartbeat at once and hurries back out of the window; even Peter won’t risk getting caught breaking in to house of a police officer especially if the one catching him is the Deputy who lives in said house he’s broken in too. 

 


	34. The Evil in My Brain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The red-haze came to call, came in the form of pictures in the shape of several bottles. The red-haze came to call and painted the ground red with blood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Evil is my name and abusing Stiles is my game. Please don't hate me.

 

There were no words to describe how Alec Stilinski was feeling when he opened his eyes on the early hours of the morning, his stomach was churning and his head felt like an alien had been planted inside of his skull and now the little devil was trying to break through his brain and skull. Usually there was a glass of water by his bed and a couple of Aspirins by now or Stiles would walk into the room with a everything Alec needed to start the day when he felt like just spending the day in bed. Alec sits up and runs his fingers through his hair, his mouth tastes like the floor of a pub, and just sitting up made him feel like he was going to be sick, his fingers feel stiff and there’s a strange ache thrumming through the hands.

 

Alec grumbles out a curse as he makes his way out of his bedroom, he needs coffee and something for the pains he’s going through. He’s almost down the stairs when his brain starts to work once more, the first thing he realizes is that he’s been drinking again; it’s not just the taste in his mouth that tells him that but also the bottle of whiskey he stumbles on. He tries to remember what threw him back into drinking, he’d been doing so good, but then Alec gives-up on it as he can’t grasp the reasoning behind one drink turning in to several; it was probably just something someone said about Paige or maybe he’s just seen a father and daughter that reminded him of what he’d lost and would never have.

 

Alec runs his fingers through his hair he stumbled over another piece of evidence that he had been drinking, an empty bottle of beer, he curses as the bottle made a loud noise as it rolled over the floor and hit the wall. He takes support from the wall as he makes his way into the kitchen, he’s surprised that he can’t just flip a switch to get his coffee as Genim usually made sure that all he has to do was push one flip a switch instead of having to measure coffee and water. He turns on the radio to hear the news and nearly drops the glass of water he was holding when the newscaster informs him that it’s Monday morning and not Sunday as he had thought it to be.

 

`What the Hell?´ Alec gasps and then his mind starts to work, he sees the mess in the kitchen, there are broken dishes on the floor and suddenly there are small flashes of what happened on Saturday going through his mind.

 

There had been a brown package on the front step of the house, with his name on it, Alec had picked it up and dumped it inside the cruiser without much thought because he had to get back to work. But he’d opened the package at some point.

 

Alec ends up being sick into the kitchen sink when he remembers the pictures of his son, his little boy, naked with grown men fucking him. Alec Stilinski empties what little he’d had in his stomach as he remembers each image; there were several pictures of his son getting fucked by one or more men and always with a blessed out expression on his face. Alec wants to scream, cry, curse but he can’t because he suddenly sees the color of his hands as he reaches out to turn on the water to washout the sink of the smelly mess he’d created.

 

He raises his hands and stares down at them, the skin of his knuckles are covered in scabs and he’s seen hands like these before at work and it has him absolutely terrified.

 

 _Jesus Christ Alec, who the Hell did you beat-up?_ Alec asks himself as he stares at his hands, and tries to remember what poor bastard did he attack, and what did he do with the pictures he’d seen?

 

The memory of the pictures suddenly reminds him that there had been a DVD amongst the pictures; Alec remembers stumbling home dumping the bottles of beer and whiskey on the coffee-table before stumbling over to the DVD-player and it took him several tries before he got the damn thing to work. What he saw, what he remembers seeing had been his son on his hands and knees being fucked by some young man and like with all the pictures he had seen this young man had his face manipulated into something obscure, but Genim was not changed to shelter the identity of the kid that was moaning like a whore.

 

Alec remembers watching his son spread his legs wider, he watched as his son begged for more. But the horrible movie didn’t end with his son just getting fucked by some young man who had his son moaning and groaning. There was a second part to the movie of his son getting fucked into the mattress of what looked like a hotel room, the second part was of his son being tied down and being fucked into the ground of some empty lot, and all Alec had thought then and there was that his son was a fucking-faggot-whore, and the large muscular man was confirming his feelings by the slur of words he spoke to Alec’s son, and when the third-part of the movie began to play Alec had enough and stopped the movie and just drank and drank while going through the pictures of his abomination of a son.

 

Alec stares at his hand and he has a terrible feeling spreading through his body as a tiny voice in his brain tells him that the blood isn’t from one of the obscure men in the pictures or on the DVD, then he realizes there’s not only blood on his hands but on the walls and even on the floor in the shape of bloodied handprints.

 

`GENIM!´ Alec screams as he remembers, as he remembers something he wishes wasn’t true but a sick and twisted dream he’d dreamt in his drunken mess.

 

_Genim had walked into the house, carrying several bags from several different stores and Alec hadn’t given him enough cash to go on a shopping spree, and that his son had gotten his hair cut again without Alec paying for it was enough evidence that his son either had a become a professional little whore or had found out himself a Sugar Daddy. What the reason behind the sudden wealth his son had was of no great importance really as all Alec could think about was the shame his son had brought him; the scandal would ruin any of Alec’s hopes of becoming the future Sheriff of Beacon Hills or anywhere for that matter._

 

_`Hey dad, ´ Genim said dropping his bags by the stairs, `have you eaten already, or should I make us something? ´ There was a rawness to Genim’s voice like he had been screaming or what the case most likely had been deep throating some ones cock while moaning like the slut he was, the thought flipped a switch inside of Alec and everything after that was hateful words, hits and kicks and Genim pleading for his dad to stop._

 

`GENIM!´ Alec screams as he runs out of the kitchen and into the dinning-room where several chairs had been flipped on their sides and there were shattered bottles of beer crunching under his feet.

 

_Genim was trying to get away from him, his whore of a son was trying to get away from him. He threw the bottle of beer, and when it hit the wall and shattered just inches away from his son’s head._

 

Alec moved into the living-room and remembered how he’d caught his son by the hood of his sweater and yanked him back hard enough to cause Genim to lose his footing and crumble to the ground.

 

_His son was gasping for air as he lay on the floor eyes watery and pleading as Alec brought his fist down on his son’s pale tearstained face, his son had raised his hands in attempt to defend himself._

 

Alec stares at the bloodstain in the carpet, he stares at the broken bottles and the empty bottles, and he remembers how Stiles managed to slip his gasp but Alec had chased him and covered the only proper exit from the house.

 

`Genim.´ Alec gasps as he remembers snatching his son by the ankle as he had tried to ascend the stairs, trying to get upstairs, Alec remembers the sound his son made as he hit the stairs and the whimper and cries that escaped him as the impact happened.

 

_Genim begged for him to stop, to let him go, but Alec wasn’t about to let his faggot-whore-of-a-son to get away and so he started punching his son a few more times until Genim suddenly kicked him right in the face, his nose made a horrible sound at the impact and Alec lets the whore go._

 

_`I’m sorry daddy, I’m sorry.´ Genim had cried a shaking hand reaching out towards him, but the moment Alec looked up at his son the kid bolted upstairs and Alec hurried after fueled by a rage he had never felt before._

 

`SON! ´ Alec screams as he hurries up the stairs.

 

The sight of the bathroom door has him pausing, has his heart clenching inside his chest, and has an ice-cold sensation spreading through him. The bathroom door was shattered, kicked in, and from the looks of things someone with bloodied little hands had tried to hang on to the doorframe.

 

_The useless child had gone into the bathroom, locked the door, and was now sobbing loudly in the small space of the bathroom begging for him to forgive him. Alec doesn’t even bother to try and get his son too willingly to unlock the door; instead he uses his skill to break down the door. Genim is huddled in the corner, in the small space where they showered every day, hands raised pleadingly._

 

_`Daddy.´ Genim sobbed, voice laced with fear, `Please.´_

 

_`Oh, go on beg for mercy whore!´ Alec spits out, as he walks towards his son, who tries to vanish into the tiles but there’s no hiding form him, not anymore, `Beg for mercy like you’ve begged for every cock you’ve sucked you piece of shit.´ Alec grabs the soft hair, all neatly trimmed and washed, and pulls the boy up to face him, trembling hands are trying to touch him but Alec doesn’t want to be touched by someone so filthy, by someone who let’s himself get fucked by men for money._

 

_`Daddy.´ Genim sobbed before his face slammed against the tiled wall, disorienting Genim enough to make everything Alec does for the next few minutes a walk in the park. He pulls Genim out of the shower and starts to beat his head against the sink and the as Genim starts to stir he begins to kick his boy that collapses down to the floor._

 

Alec empties his stomach on the floor because dear God, he remembers the feeling of kicking his son like some worthless piece of dirt. Alec moves towards his son’s bedroom when he remembers dragging his boy out of the bathroom, Genim had been barely conscious at the time but still he had fought as best he could.  

 

Heart racing, trembling against the cage that held it, Alec knocked on the closed door because he felt like he should; and with a fearful voice he called out to his son, hopping his boy would answer but the room is silent and so he tries a few more times because he remembers dragging his son into the small bedroom. He remembers taking off his belt.

 

_`I did not raise a faggot-whore, I did not give you everything so you could humiliate me like this.´ Alec had hissed as he unbuckled his belt, watching as his son tried to crawl away from him, `Your mother did not suffer through labor and then a horrible death to have a slut for a son.´_

 

_`I-I’m s-s-sorry,´ Genim had whimpered, eyeing the movements of Alec’s hands and that enrages him even further because his mind tells him his abomination of a son is thinking about the dick his father has trapped behind cheap fabrics, and it makes him sick and he needs to get the evil out of his son._

 

The memory of him whipping his son, the sound of the belt buckle haunting him with the bloodcurdling screams of his son has him opening the bedroom door. The room is dark and silent, and with a trembling hand Alec turns on the light, and he starts to cry when he sees a pair of bloodied jeans and a sweater that had seen better days laying on the floor, there’s also a torn t-shirt that is covered in blood. But there is no Genim in sight, but still he calls for his son voice broken and horrified at the blood on the bed and carpet, the bloodied handprints on the wall and even on the windowsill.

 

Alec starts beating himself with the palms of his hands trying to figure out where his son is, trying to get the memory of what he had done. His belt isn’t anywhere in the room and that though reminds him of what had happened yesterday.

 

_Alec wakes-up to the sound of something heavy tumble down the stairs, he’d fallen asleep in his chair and he’s angry because he’s barely slept for two hours. He gets out of his chair and walks into the hall and when he sees Genim trying to crawl towards the front door Alec starts to taunt the whore, because the kid is really trying to get his ass out of the house probably because he’s got some fucking client waiting for him._

 

_`You can do it! Just a little more. Go-Genim-GO!´_

 

_Genim stopped moving when he started cheering him on even more, this kid that almost looks like his son starts to cry and beg for him to take him to the hospital because he is hurting so bad. But Alec doesn’t give a shit and starts dragging his son down into the basement, because Genim is no longer going to sell his body to strangers, his son will not ruin Alec Stilinski’s future as the Sheriff of Beacon Hills, if his son is so fucking desperate to have something up his ass then Alec will gladly provide him with it. After all Alec is a good father._

 

Alec is suddenly flooded with the memory of binding his son’s arms behind his back that had been covered in cuts and bruises and raw-red-welts. With the memory of what he had spent Sunday doing Alec runs downstairs and then into the basement, and the moment he turns on the light in the small space that smells of chemicals and dampness, he sees his son dangling from one of the hooks in the ceiling. Alec can’t breathe, can’t move, he just stares at the pale unmoving figure dangling by his arms in an odd angle; his feet are inches off the floor, there’s a smell of urine, the naked body looks absolutely broken.

 

`Genim?´ Alec croaked as his mind awakened once more, he slips down the stairs and takes in the damage he had done to his son; his son who doesn’t even look like his son anymore, the face swollen and bruised into something completely disfigured. He can’t help but start to cry as he looks at the damage he had done to his boy, and at first he thinks he’s killed his son; but then when he whispers his son’s name the body jerks several times and a strange gurgled whine escapes Genim.

 

`Son. Son.’  Alec says and tries to reach out to comfort his son, but the moment he moves closer Genim starts to jerk away as best he can and makes a panic sound that has Alec backing away. And it takes Alec a moment to understand the slur of sounds his battered son is making are actually words of “no” and “please” as well as “Stop”.

 

`I’m so sorry. Oh, God Genim.´ Alec cries as he has no idea what to do now, he wants to hold his son but how can he when every inch of skin is damaged and broken, how can he touch his baby boy when he’d spent a day breaking his son down to this mess dangling before him.

 

 


	35. Destroyed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There court proceedings to look forward too, while the boy slept there were several families going of to war for him. Who knew so many souls wanted the boy in their care.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No real warnings on this chapter, just a little bit of POV from Gerald and Chris Argent, Talia Hale and Thomas (of course, because I LOVE HIM).

 

Gerald Argent could not recognize the child on the bed, the face broken and swollen beyond recognition. The boy was no longer breathing on his own accord that particular labor was left for the machine by the bed, there was a tube going in through the ruined mouth. The almost chaotic amount of damage made Gerald feel severely uncomfortable. The hunter knew it was his actions, his need to hasten the process that had ended with this incredible destruction of Genim Stilinski, it was Gerald’s manipulative nature that was to share the blame with Alec Stilinski.

 

Gerald understood now that he should have made at least some arrangements to assure that something like what had occurred could not have come to pass, but he hadn’t imagined the father to lose control in such a horrific way. He hadn’t imagined a father capable of torturing and beating their child for two days; no, what Gerald had expected was just one evening of beating and nothing more, he had expected that Genim would arrive at school on Monday showing some signs of abuse that would warrant Gerald’s attention.

 

He had planned the encounter between him and Genim, Gerald had expected to sit down with the boy and slowly manipulate him into confessing the abuse he’d suffered in the hands of his father; Gerald had made plans and none of them had worked out.

 

This disaster was not what he had wanted, but he could still work with it.

 

Alec Stilinski had by his actions cut himself out of his son’s life for if possible forever.

 

Now all Gerald had to do was secure the custody of the boy, of course he had spread his wealthy to the social worker who was signed on to Genim Stilinski’s case as well as the child advocate and the judge that had been signed on to the case; and considering how his man on the police force cleared the pictures and the DVD from the Stilinski House no one would be able to prove the strange claims Alec Stilinski was making about losing his mind after seeing his son sleeping around with men.  

 

Still nothing was certain as of yet, there were other people who wanted to get the custody of the boy. The largest threat to Gerald’s plan was the Hale’s, Talia and Thomas Hale had made a move to gain custody of the broken child, and that was just not in Gerald’s best interests.

 

Gerald was anxious to have Genim under his care, and would do _anything_ to get what he wanted.

 

**~*~**

 

There was a nagging suspicion inside of him that kept pushing and pulling at his mind, there was a stubborn whisper that kept telling Chris Argent that his father had something to do with what had happened inside the Stilinski House. Chris tried to ignore the voice but it would not go silent, especially now when he stood there watching his father standing outside the room of the kid who had been mistreated by life, his father stood there like a grim—figure of guilt.

 

Chris walked over to his father still trying to battle his suspicions, still trying to ignore the little voice that told him his father was involved in the destruction of Stiles Stilinski’s life. Of course there was no proof of Gerald’s involvement, but considering how his father had become taken by the boy anything was possible; and Chris knew from personal experience that what his father wanted always came to be.

 

`How is he?´ Chris asked as he slipped alongside his father, staring through the glass barrier between them and the boy; for now only the hospital personal were allowed into the room, Chris couldn’t look at Stiles longer than a few  minutes without feeling sick to his stomach.

 

The kid looked nothing like the boy Chris knew as Stiles Stilinski, the beautiful face and wonderful mouth were beaten into something completely disfigured and ruined. There were wires and tubes, bandages and braces, and nothing that resembled the boy Chris had thought about for months. Chris had wished that life would have turned kinder towards the child, he had even prayed for it during weaker moments when he slipped back to his mother’s faith but none of his prayers had done the boy much good; or perhaps God simply ignored the prayers of a hunter.

 

`The swelling in his brain hasn’t gone down.´ Gerald sighed, eyes still on the boy even if he did tilt his head as if to lower his gaze to the floor, ` there are no improvements. Some of the cuts are infected.´

 

Chris turned his gaze away from the sheet of glass that allowed them to see the broken boy. At the end of the hall from where they were standing stood the Hale’s, waiting for Gerald and him to leave so they could have their moment by the window.

 

Like his father the Alpha couple were fighting for the custody of the boy, and like the Hale’s and his father a woman by the name of Melissa McCall was also trying to gain the custody of the broken child; and if Chris had to be honest he wished anyone but his father got the right to care for the wellbeing of Stiles because Chris knew his father, and his father was not the best option for someone who had to be by now emotionally crippled.

 

**~*~**

 

Seeing the Argent’s standing outside of Stiles room had everyone growling, it was a simple instinctual reaction to seeing threats to their family lingering outside the room of someone who was as good as a member of their pack. It wasn’t just seeing the two Argents there that made Talia growl, it was also the fact that they were trying to take the boy from her by trying to gain the custody of young Stiles.

 

Talia might have failed to protect the Stiles from his father because she had believed that the man loved his son enough not to harm him, but this one failure in her judgment had made her even more determined in keeping Stiles safe; and she could not do that without having him in her care, she could not keep him safe unless he was in the care of her pack.

 

When the news of the horrors that had happened in the Stilinski House had reached the Hale’s Talia had nearly lost her own composure which would have been a dreadful mistake considering her mate did lose his, it took Talia and Peter as well as Richard and his mate to stop Thomas from going after Alec Stilinski; they had to chain him down in the basement of the Hale House for several days until Thomas calmed down enough to listen to the actions Talia had taken.

 

Talia glared at Chris Argent who dared to meet her eye, of course it was not entirely fair for her to hate him when he had nothing to do with his father actions when it came to going after the guardianship of Stiles Stilinski, but still she could not control her reaction towards any of the Argents when one of them was going to try and rip her family asunder.

 

There was something about the speediness with which Gerald Argent had sought out the custody claim on Stiles that had the Alpha on edge; how could someone like Gerald Argent get the paperwork done on the day the boy was rescued from the house where he should have been safe and sound, how could someone like Gerald Argent know that Alec Stilinski would be willing to give up custody of his son without so much as a fight?

 

Talia did not like the way of things, but she would not allow her discomfort or suspicious nature act against her battle for the boy; she would do her best to appear as the greater option for the hurt child in the court of human law. If Stiles had been a werewolf, a werewolf’s pup then this would have all been resolved with much less of an hassle all Talia and her pack would have had to do would gain the boy’s acceptance and then if another pack tried to stake claim on him fight for the child; the victor would have the boy. Human law was far more complicated and it made her feel nervous and anxious.

 

Talia watched as the older Argent turned his gaze towards her and her family, the look of pure hatred and loathing was not a surprise to her, there had always been something unusually cold and calculating about Gerald Argent and that was a dangerous thing in a hunter. And this hunter was on the hunt.

 

With a short nod Gerald Argent walked away with his son, but although they were walking away Talia waited until she could no longer hear their heartbeats before allowing her pack to move towards the window.

 

Talia Hale steadied her mind before looking up and into the room, she struggled against every urge to rush into the room and attend to the child; to care for him like a mother should. She struggled to ignore the instinct inside her that pushed for her to give the child the bite, to turn him so his body could heal and mend; to make him into something a family like the Argents would refuse to take into their fold.

 

The first-time she had allowed members of her family to visit Stiles it had become clear it was too much of an ordeal for some of the younger members; Cora had screamed in shock and horror when she realized that the ugly person on the bed was her Tiles, Derek had lost the control of his wolf and it took Laura and two cousins to get him out of the hospital without people seeing him, all of the younger members of the family as well as some older ones suffered from nightmares where they saw Stiles in the dreadful shape he was in often crying and begging for help but none of them could ever save him.

 

Thomas and Abigail struggled through each visit, Abigail would keep a brave face but as soon as she was left alone show would simply sob. Then there was Talia’s beloved Thomas who would be a silent strength beside her during their visits, but once outside of the hospital he would refuse a ride home and just run all the way home and once back at the Hale House he would demand a training session with Peter; and in the dark hours of the night she and Thomas would wrap around each other and just cry out the anxiety and guilt that tormented both of them.

 

Talia leaned into the solid strength that was her mate, and like days before he wrapped his arms around her breathing in her scent. They would stand there for the fifteen minutes they were allowed with the boy.

 

**~*~**

 

Seeing his pup so broken, so unrecognizable was far too much to endure without losing some control, without needing comfort from the one person that held his heart and soul. Thomas Hale had survived torture, had survived seeing his brother get slaughtered by hunters, he had watched his uncles get cut down by hunters blades, he had fought against Alpha’s and hunters and none of the horrors he had seen had ever hurt him as much as seeing Stiles destroyed by the one person that had a true duty to care and protect him.

 

Thomas had almost gone feral when the news of what had happened during the hours Thomas had not been there to care for Stiles, all Thomas had thought about was hunting down the man that had harmed his pup to render the man into such agony that he would plead for a merciful death but there would have been no mercy from Thomas Hale. Thomas had been chained down in the basement or as the pack called it the dungeon, kept there until all the anger was simply replaced by grief and despair. Talia had only left him for a few hours, hours she had spent working on staking a claim on their human child in the legal ways of humans, she would tell Thomas during the days of rage and madness about how they would fight for Stiles and bring him home one day; and it was those promises of days with Stiles that slowly brought Thomas out of his feral-state because Stiles needed him strong and able.

 

Thomas whimpered at the sight of his darling boy, there had been very little change in the shape of his little boy. His kid had been beaten into an unrecognizable shape, Thomas hated seeing his little boy so silent and unmoving, face so broken and bruised. And all Thomas Hale wanted to do was ease the pain of his boy, to touch and feel the life he could no longer see through the glass that separated him from the boy that looked so small and alone there inside that dreadful room.

 

It hurt to see how his son could not breathe on his own, that he needed a machine to do it for him because the man who had helped create the wonderful boy had beaten Stiles into such a state that his body could not work without assistance; there were several broken and cracked bones such as his beautiful cheekbones and nose, the jaw and ribs, long slender fingers broken and dislocated.

 

Everything was just so broken. Everything on the outside as well as on the inside had been damaged by a heartless man who had from what rumors sang spoken nothing but nonsense about the reason behind the sudden flare of brutality.

 

`He’s still alive.´ Thomas whispered to no one really, or perhaps it was to himself, perhaps he wanted to remind himself that Stiles was still alive; that Stiles was still there and as long as Stiles was alive Thomas had a chance to show him what a true father was.

 


	36. Never Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Losing his son was something Alec Stilinski had feared would happen one day, and still when the day came knocking he tried to refuse it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just Alec Stilinski.

 

 

 

Alec Stilinski had never imagined that he would _ever_ end up where he was, never imagined he would lose his entire family before even a year had passed between each loss; two dead and one lost because he nearly killed his own son. Alec knew he was absolutely guilty for the cruelty his son had experienced, but at the same time there was this maddening feeling inside of him that chewed at his gut telling him he wasn’t all at fault; yes, he had been upset about finding less than innocent pictures of his son and strange men, but Alec can’t imagine he would just go after his son the way he had because of a few pictures and a DVD.

 

Yes, he had been upset, so much so that he happily took the bottle of whiskey one of the officers at work, one he couldn’t for the life of him remember, had given him as he walked out of the department; a bottle that had like the pictures now mysteriously disappeared.

 

There was no way that if he had been sane, even if drunk out of his mind, that Alec would have done all those horrible things to his son; there was no way he could have kept on beating his son until his beautiful face, the face he shared with his mother, was unrecognizable. There was no way Alec could spend an entire day degrading and humiliating and abusing his son if he wasn’t mentally unhinged.

 

The memory of his son hanging from the ceiling of their basement, naked and broken, but with still enough strength to try and get away from Alec, the memory of the fear and whimpers of his only son broke Alec back into tears.

 

Alec had cut the rough rope that had bound his son’s thin wrists, they were rubbed raw and bloody, and attached to the hook; at first Alec had tried to lift his son off of the hook but the screams that exploded from his baby boy when he tried to touch and help him, so he decided to cut his son free and that he did. As soon as Genim collapsed to the ground and Alec made a move towards the broken figure the cried in agony and fear, the boy tried to craw away from Alec and it made him feel so sick to see the pathetic and desperate attempt Genim was making to get away from his father.

 

The sound of the door opening snaps Alec out of his thoughts and he watches as his attorney walk into the room and the officer that had been standing in the corner of the room slips out with one last glare sent at Alec. Mr. Whittemore sat down at the other end of the table and sighed heavily.

 

`H-how’s my son? ´ Alec asks, there’s no hellos or goodbyes between him and Whittemore because they meant nothing to either of them, and Alec could appreciate the way Whittemore was focused on his work and not the social necessities some would entertain.

 

`Still in a coma,´ Mr. Whittemore sighs, shaking his head ever so slightly before continuing, `There’s still the swelling of the brain that is worrying, there are also infections and he’s still not breathing on his own.´

 

Alec didn’t hear the rest because he broke down sobbing, he wanted to hide his tears behind his hands but he was handcuffed to the god-damn chain attached to the floor because he was now considered as a highly violent person, so instead he laced his fingers together and prayed that what God there was would save his son, that what higher-power there was would heal his son from all the damage Alec had done.

 

`Mr. Stilinski.´ Mr. Whittemore said demandingly after allowing Alec five minutes to linger in a state of emotional breakdown, `Mr. Stilinski, I need you to focus. Your son needs you to focus.´

 

Alec looked up into the cold grey-eyes looking at him with what might have been sympathy, `We need to talk about your son’s future.´

 

Alec shook his head, because he really didn’t want to talk about it not now – not yet.

 

` We need to talk about it, ´ Mr. Whittemore said with sharpness in his voice, and Alec had to give in to the conversation that Whittemore was determined to have.

 

`You do understand that you won’t be able to care for your son for the foreseeable future.´ It wasn’t a question but Alec still gave him a nod, although he did wish to face the fact that he would not be there to see his son turn sixteen or teach him how to drive, that he would most likely not even be there for his son’s eighteenth birthday, `And because you are the only family your son has, he is either going to slip into the system where he will be passed around the foster care until he comes of age.´

 

The desperate sob exploded out of Alec because he had seen far too many good kids go bad once they were dumped in the system, he had also seen the dark side of foster care and now _he_ was the reason why his only child would slip into that world where ending up in a good place was as rare as finding a diamond ring on the beach.

 

`Mr. Stilinski, you need to listen to me. You need to focus.´

 

Alec stared down at the few sheets of paper Mr. Whittemore slid across the table too him on the table, the words he was reading made no sense and he had to ask his attorney what was going on.

 

`Your son I very lucky Mr. Stilinski.´ Mr. Whittemore said as he settled more comfortably in his chair, `Mr. Gerald Argent, as well as Thomas and Talia Hale, and Robert Finstock and a Mrs. Melissa McCall have all set the ball rolling to gain custody of your son.´

 

Alec can’t believe it, and he stares back at the papers and names and all the little details on these people who are offering to take in his son. Never could he have imagined so many people willing to take Genim, his broken and half-dead son, into their lives.

 

`I believe you know each of them in some way, am I right?´ it took Alec a moment to remember who Robert Finstock was, but once he did he gave a nod and answered, ` Mr. Argent is my son’s French teacher. Thomas and Talia Hale are the parents of one of my son’s friends; they’ve been really good to me and my son, their good people. Mellissa was friends with my wife, and her son and Genim were like brothers. I – I think Finstock is my son’s coach, Genim is on the Lacrosse team, he’s been on the bench this season because of his health but I’m sure…´

 

`Yes. Yes.´ Whittemore says impatiently, `It’s good that you know of these people, it might make things easier for both you and your son.´

 

They’d had this conversation a few times before, the issue of what would happen to his son once he was well enough to leave the care of the hospital; and until now Alec had dwelled inside the illusion that he would be able to stay and care for his son, but after the past few days when his mind was slowly growing clearer Alec had become to realize that crimes he had committed against his son would not allow him to get away with a simple slap on the wrists; and if he for some strange reason did get away with community service there was still the greatest of chances that his son wouldn’t be brave enough to dare to live with his father, his son might chose foster care than risk another beating from Alec.

 

`Easier? ´ Alec snorted, how could any of this be easy to either one of them?

 

`Yes, easier.´ Whitmore replied, ` Considering how you have agreed to plea guilty to all charges, I think you should also help the transition of your son to one of these…´

 

`I want to change my plea.´ Alec said, looking straight into the eyes of the man who should do his damn hardest to help Alec.

 

`Excuse me? ´ Whittemore said sounding almost as shocked as he looked, `You want to do what now? ´

 

`I think, I think we should change the plea – I mean the pictures and the DVD…´ Alec starts but is cut off by an impatient Whittemore who snaps at Alec, `There aren’t any pictures or DVD showing your son in compromising positions or this mystery bottle of whiskey you insist you drank.´ When Alec tries to argue Whittemore slams his hand against the table before barking at Alec, `This ridiculous idea that someone set you up, that someone is behind what you did to your son is a weak defense that no one will take seriously – there were no drugs in your system.´

 

Alec knows all of this, but he knows what he knows and there is no way he would go after his son in such a horrible way just because he drank some whiskey and a few beers. He opens his mouth to argue but Whittemore pushes stacks of papers and pictures towards Alec, several statements were highlighted to make it easy for Alec to read.

 

`This is the statement of Dr. Vries, and according to his sessions with your son this incident wasn’t the first-time you’ve hit your son.´ Whittemore says, `You’ve been abusing your son for some time Mr. Stilinski. And this statement will be just another nail in your coffin and another reason for your son to be removed from your care – now you could secure your son’s safety by considering supporting one of these fine people who are ready to take your son into their care and protection. Your son would be somewhere _safe_ that should be your _priority_ now.´

 

Alec stares at the words, words that say he has been abusing his son long before his sudden mental breakdown; these statements won’t be enough to prove that Alec had been abusing Genim but when Whittemore places another sheet of paper with statements from various teachers pointing out various times his son had come to school with bruises and scrapes; and slowly he begins to remember what he had done to his son.

 

`Oh God.´ Alec gasped, once more struggling against the binds that held his hands from rising to his support andaid, `Oh God.´ He could suddenly remember one night when he’d been drinking heavily, Genim had made dinner and forsome awful reason Alec hadn’t wanted the risotto his son had made and instead of simply voicing his displeasure he had attacked his son beat him to the floor where he’d continued kicking his sobbing child.

 

`You could make this all much easier for Genim,´ Mr. Whittemore said while watching Alec struggle with the memories of various times when he had lost his calm and went for his son, `You could do the right thing and make the transition easier for your son.´

 

`How? ´ Alec cried out, `How can I make anything easier for my son – after _everything_ I’ve done to him, how can anything make it better? ´

 

Whittemore sighed, `You can’t. Not really. But you could help secure a safe future for your son; you could give your support to one of these fine people willing to take your son into their care.´

 

Alec doesn’t want to do this, doesn’t want to give up hope that he could get his son back. But then Whittemore has pictures of what has to be his son, each picture is like a knife into the gut, because this is the first-time he sees his son and at least back at the house his son had appeared more alive than the figure on the hospital bed with tubes and wires going in and out of the body; there are even x-rays that show the extent of the breaks and cracks the beating had created.

 

`You see what you’ve done? ´ Whittemore asks with a cold and clinical voice, `You think any judge would show you mercy once these are handed to him, even without Dr. Vries statement or those of the doctors and nurses that have treated your son, do you think any judge in their right-mind would not feel an urge to protect your son from you.´

 

Alec stares at the x-rays that shoved the damage done to Genim’s face, and Alec knew that not a single judge would be able to overlook what he had done to his own son, and Alec knew he would lose his son in one way or another and so he pushed the evidence of his crime aside and stared back down at all the people willing to take care of his son when he could not.

 

`I’ll give my support to Melissa, she knows my son the best, she...´

 

`Is a single mother, ´ Whittemore said with a coldness that had Alec looking up at him in confusion, Melissa was a good woman who could support and love Genim the best way possible, `who would have to pay for all the hospital bills that will be mounting up to a hefty sum.´

 

Alec had not thought about that, he stared back down at the x-rays and doctors’ reports and he knew Melissa could not afford to care for his son.

 

`I would recommend removing Mrs. McCall and Mr. Finstock, neither one could afford your son, and being that Mrs. McCall is a single parent who works full-time and Mr. Finstock is a man who has no experience in raising a teenager the court would surely not give either one much thought.´

 

Alec understood that what Whittemore was telling him was the truth, and after seeing the pictures of his son with men who had obviously taken advantage of his youthful innocence the thought of handing Genim over to another man that might take advantage of his son – well; needless to say Alec discarded Finstock rather quickly. But giving up on Melissa was much harder to do, but he did eventually when give up on Melissa when he imagined the hardship he would cause her by giving Genim to her.

 

`I would recommend Mr. Argent, he’s raised two fine children and has the means to care for your son Mr. Stilinski.´ Whittemore said as he sits there all high and mighty which in his power and knowledge.

 

`What about the Hale’s?´ Alec asks, he likes the Hale’s because they know his son and seem genuinely interest in his son, `They know Genim and he’s comfortable with them.´

 

`Yes, well, ´ Whittemore looked suddenly rather uncomfortable which made Alec feel like he should be interrogating his attorney, `The Hale’s do have the means to care for your son, but they do have several of their own children and a house full of people. I’d advise you to reconsider Mr. Argent.´

 

`Why are you lobbying against everyone but Mr. Argent? ´ Alec asked, growing more suspicious over the loyalties of his attorney.

 

`I’m not Mr. Stilinski, I am simply trying to give you the whole picture of things.´ Whittemore said while beginning to clear out most of the papers and pictures he had brought, ` I’m not lobbying for anyone.´

 

`Good. I’m supporting the Hale’s. ´ Alec said, if he could he would have crossed his arms, but he could not so he simply gave his attorney the stoniest of glares.

 


	37. The Call

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There’s something dreadful in a call that comes in the middle of the night. There is something truly awful when suspicion rises against ones father. The unknown is a dreadful thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear this is a short chapter, and not a brilliant one and I hope none of you have jumped ship yet.

 

The phone call in the middle of the night drove everyone out of their beds and rushing downstairs, everyone hurrying to hear what disaster had now befallen the young Stilinski boy; some fearing the worst other’s trying to hope for the best as the Alpha of the Hale pack answered the phone call that disturbed their peaceful slumber the scent of fear and anxiety rising from her did not ease their worries. There was nothing more alarming than a worried Alpha.

 

Derek Hale could not stop shifting back and forth between his human and Beta form not even his sisters arms around him could help to anchor him, his father was in a similar shape although his shifting did eventually stop in that of his human form; still Thomas could not calm down, he continued moving restlessly with miserable little whines escaping him. Abigail Hale spent the worrisome minutes wringing her hands and mumbling out a silent prayer to her ancestors.

 

Everyone in the Hale-pack knew nothing good could come from a phone call in the middle of the night, especially not when a member of their pack was in the hospital. Then again every phone call that came had most of the members in the pack jumping, it didn’t matter what time a call came it was always met with anxiety.

 

Talia Hale kept some distance between her and her family, she could feel their eyes on her, there was how no ignoring all the little anxious sounds and whispers her family created. Talia made an effort to keep her voice as low as possible the moment the caller on the other end identified themselves as Keanu Mahealani the attorney Talia had hired to help her and her mate win the custody of dear Stiles. Usually she was very courteous towards the man but the moment he spoke the words, `It’s about Alec Stilinski,´ she began to use short sentences such as `What?´ and `Yes´ and the occasional `No´ and `Oh, My God,´ the longest sentence being, `What exactly does that mean for us?´

 

When the phone call was finally over and done, fifteen minutes that left the Alpha feeling more like the amount of minutes that had moved on was more like those needed for an hour. Talia stood silent for a moment silent in thought with her back turned to her back, which some Alpha’s would never dare to do, she struggled to make sense of what the conversation with her lawyer had yielded.

 

`Talia Lorelai Celeste Hale,´ her mother’s voice snapped her back from all the words and slippery pieces of information Mahealani had passed on to her, each word swirling around inside her head until her mother reminded her there were others as involved in their attempts to legally gain Stiles Stilinski into their family and pack, `What’s going on?´

 

Focusing her gaze on her mate Talia began to relay the information she had been given by Mahealani. Talia’s voice was slightly strained with nerves as she spoke, `Alec Stilinski hung himself in his cell four hours ago. He’s dead.´

 

The silence that fell was one of stunned disbelief, not a single soul in the house that had known Alec Stilinski would have believed him capable of such an act. Then again not a single soul in the house had been able to believe or grasp the news of what Alec Stilinski had done to his son, and that was before all the horrible details of the attack slipped out for all to read and hear; the media circus that came from the gruesome details had been merciless so much so that a few pictures of the horribly disfigured and injured boy had been plastered on the front pages of newspapers.

 

`There’s no way, no way he would do that.´ Derek said, finally shattering the heavy silence that had fallen over them all.

 

` I recall you saying those very same words when the news of what he’d done to Stiles trickled out for all to hear, ´ the distain in Peter Hale’s voice had every eye on the Beta as he made his way down the stairs with his mate and daughter in toe, ` But we all know now the truth now, don’t we Derek? ´

 

Several growls rumbled out, but there were also a few nods because the truth was Derek had defended the Alec Stilinski during the first twenty-four hours until he could no longer defend the man because the evidence was too much to ignore; and when Derek faced the truth he was enraged and devastated all at once.

 

`What did Mahealani say? ´ asked Thomas Hale as he made his way towards his mate.

 

`He thinks the proceedings will be hastened now when Stilinski is no longer around to influence the decision making, according to Mahealani the judge is keen to have this matter off of his desk.´ Talia spoke more to her mate than anyone else in the room, she leaned against his firm body seeking his warmth and comfort, his strength always seemed to soothed her, `According to Mahealani Whittemore went to see Stilinski earlier today, Mahealani doesn’t know much about what went on between Whittemore and Stilinski but he knows Stilinski’s attorney was trying to convince him to discard both Mrs. McCall and Finstock.´

 

`You think he’s managed to get the bastard to do the right thing and give us Stiles? ´ Thomas asked breathing in the soothing scent of his mate, who shrugged her shoulders before answering, `Mahealani doesn’t know, and neither do I.´

 

`But there’s hope right? ´ Laura asked, arms still around her brother, although she was not too keen on having another little brother she still believed that it would be in the best interest of the boy to be placed in the care of her family, `I mean even if Whittemore only managed to just get rid of Finstock and McCall, right?´

 

`We’ve got this in the bag.´ Abigail said with an almost giddiness in her voice, ` Who would hand the child over to a perfect stranger instead to people who have been around to care for him for months and months.´ Abigail’s hopeful nature was not contagious as Talia still felt an incredible sense of foreboding in the air. There were only a few souls that were not as convinced by Abigail’s faith in the system.

 

**~*~**

 

`Come in.´ the familiar voice of his father said loud enough to pierce through the thick heavy door that held the rest of the house separated from Gerald’s private study. There was something about that situation that made Chris feel like he was back to being that little kid who was going to see his father after getting caught doing something wrong or breaking the rules, all that was missing was his mother nervously standing nearby showing some form of support and comfort.

 

Walking into his father’s private study Chris reminded himself he was a man now, not some little boy his father could intimidate into obedience and silence, and so with his head held high he asked the question that had sprung forth the moment the news of Alec Stilinski had reached his ear.

 

`Is it really a suicide or did Stilinski have some help? ´

 

Gerald who had been browsing through something on his computer separated his gaze from what had consumed his attention, `What did you ask me? ´ His voice showed the irritation he felt over Chris’ question.

 

`I asked you; did Alec Stilinski really commit suicide or did you arrange some help for him? ´ Chris keeps his voice steady although he fears the answer as much as he had feared his father would one day kill his mother; in the end it had been a feral werewolf that had torn into her and left her to bleed out in their back garden, that feral werewolf had been Chris’ first proper kill.

 

Gerald places his glasses on the desk and he raises his head ever so slightly, `Now what would make you ask me such a question son? ´ there’s no anger in Gerald’s voice, only disappointment and Chris starts to have his doubts about his father’s guilt.

 

`Did you? ´ Chris asks voice staggering like his confidence and belief in the guilt of his father.

 

`No.´ Gerald says in a clipped sort of way, `I don’t go around killing innocent people son. We have a code we follow, never forget that.´

 

That’s enough to shut Chris up, although the words will not silence the evil voices in his head telling him his father had his hand in the death of Alec Stilinski.

 

`I fear you think very little of me son.´ Gerald says as he returns to his reading, the light of the screen showing each line on his face and it makes Chris realize that while he had turned into a man his father was growing into an old-man; one day his father would no longer be able to control the family with the iron-hand that had held Chris Argent from pursuing his own dreams. But Gerald could be bend and break Stiles into his will oh so easily now that the boy was already shattered into tiny pieces, Chris was sure that if Genim “Stiles” Stilinski was to open his eyes then everyone would find themselves facing a boy none of them would recognize; and a broken spirit would be perfect for someone like Gerald.

 

_If_ Stiles ever were to rise from his hospital bed, _if_ the judge Bradford Slater gave custody to Gerald, then Chris had to make a choice; to leave Stiles alone with his father or Chris could move back home to try and keep Stiles safe.

 

Chris wished as he left his father alone in his study that the judge would not hand the boy over to his father, because even being raised by a pack of wolves might have been the kinder choice for the broken boy.

 


	38. Dry your tears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When one falls from grace of man it can often be a faith worse than torture and death. Then again to awaken alone and afraid in an unfamiliar place can be as terrifying as death itself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What can I say about this chapter? Nothing really, it’s only a little bit of a mess to push us forward to hopefully something better.

 

It was a clear Friday afternoon and the sun was shining high and bright, the sky was clear and blue without a single puffy cloud in sight, a cool breeze cut through the piece of land devoted to the dead. There were only a few people gathered to witness the final details of the trying tale that was Alec Stilinski, the larger part of the guest were journalists that were eager to document the final chapter of the man who had been expected to one day take over as the Sheriff of Beacon Hills.

 

There were only a few people there that weren’t attending the funeral for the privilege of spreading the details of the miserable send-off, one of those people who was not interested in talking about the character of Alec Stilinski was Melissa McCall and her son; both silent and in tears as the coffin was slowly laid down in the ground next to the man’s daughter. Of course standing beside the two tearful figures was Alec Stilinski’s attorney and his wife and young son, young Jackson Whittemore was pouting through the whole affair as he was forced to wear a suite and stay silent and still.  

 

While the small and simple funeral was held, the son of the dead man began to stir awake it happened without anyone there to witness the sudden awakening; which meant that the moment the poor boy realized where he was and that he was all alone a panic settled inside his aching body. There was not a single person that could with their words calm the frightened boy down, and so a quick jab of a needle and a sedative rushing through the young body was all that could bring the boy down from the rising panic, eyelids growing heavy until slipping shut and the broken body slipping back into confusing slumber.

 

The second time the boy opened his eyes there were people whispering around him. There were shapes and figures he could not recognize as everything was distorted in a frightening sort of way.Stiles Stilinski could not recognize a single figure nor connect the voices that were addressing him to people he knew, his distress grew regardless of all the voice trying to coax him to calm down each voice pushing him to try and escape which caused someone much stronger than him to pin him down; the inability to move and defend himself brought back memories he had no desires to relive again, Stiles tried to scream but there was something lodged in his throat that made it all as a great of a struggle as waking-up and now to bring motion to his limbs. Then there was a quick and sharp pain before a strange exhaustion washed over him, a numbing sensation spread through him and everything went dark once more.   

 

The third attempt began as frightfully as the previous two times Stiles had stirred awake in the small room, but this time when he began to struggle he found his arms bound to his sides and that made the situation far worse and he began to struggle against the bounds and scream even with the bloody thing down his throat, he sees a figure hurry over to his bed and the flash of what appears to be a giant syringe and he screams and trashes as best his body that has been strapped down on an unfamiliar bed can.

 

`AWAY!´ a booming voice that is familiar even in its unfamiliar in its loudness, the voice breaks through Stiles’ panicked haze and he blinks a few times until he can make out the slightly unclear form of Thomas Hale that leans almost protectively over Stiles who makes a desperate move with his bound arms towards the werewolf.

 

Thomas slips his hand in Stiles’ as if this moment had been rehearsed, the other hand of the werewolf goes to rest against Stiles forehead; the touch comforting.

 

`You better stick that needle in your own fucking body, or I will snap that arm of yours in half.´ Thomas snarls, but as soon as Stiles whimpers with the desperate need to know that Thomas would keep him safe all his focus is on Stiles.

 

**~*~**

 

When Mahealani had called their house informing them that Stiles had woken-up, both Talia and Thomas were in such a rush to head to the hospital that they forgot all about Cora who was taking a nap upstairs, it was only when they had already reached the end of the driveway that Talia noticed her missing child.

 

By the time Talia and Thomas with an unhappy Cora clinging to her mother’s side like a little monkey get to the hospital there are several people around talking in low voices, there are doctors and nurses as well as Mahealani as well as the two male Argents as well as the Argents attorney who had an almost rat-like appearance to him.

 

When the news that the boy had been sedated once more had been passed to the two families fighting for the custody of the orphaned boy, there were shouts of outrage and demands for new doctors and nurses to be found to care for the young boy it was the one thing the Argents and the Hale’s agreed upon.

 

Still there was no peace between the Hale’s and the Argents nor their lawyers, the two sides kept a vast distance between each other and made no move to leave, and once the Stiles awakened for the second-time with no less dramatic reaction, the two families and their lawyers set off to shout at the nursing staff and the doctors who had made the call to sedate the boy.When Cora witnessed the reaction Stiles had and the way he was treated the best option for the Hale’s was to call for someone to come around and fetch the little girl; it irritated Thomas to find Peter being the one to come and collect his little princess.

 

Thomas nearly handed Peter over to the Argents when he took a peek at Stiles through the sheet of glass separating them all from the child.

 

Before the third awakening of the boy the judge dealing with their case arrived as did both McCall’s as well as Finstock. The youngest McCall was visibly restless having to stand amongst all the grown-ups that were fighting over Stiles like he was some piece of property, but soon he settled in one of the chairs with his mother’s cellphone in hand and playing some game on it, allowing Mrs. McCall to give her full attention to the matter at hand.

 

**~*~**

 

There was a lot of legal gibberish that the clerk documented with her swift fingers. And because Thomas could barely understand half of the words spewed back and forth, Thomas decided to ignore the conversation and focus on the fine heartbeat of the boy he wished was his son.  

 

Both McCall and Finstock were notified that their attempts at gaining custody over young Stilinski were no longer in consideration; the judge explained the reasoning for this decision with great care as Mrs. McCall grew tremendously upset by his judgment, Finstock simply shook his head and walked away not wishing either remaining side good-luck but he did mumble good-luck to the unconscious boy. Mrs. McCall continued to try and get the judge to change his mind until she could do nothing more than accept the truth; she did not have the means with which to assure that the boy got all the medical attention he needed in the future.

 

Thomas felt sorry for the woman now when there was no hope for her to take Stiles away from Beacon Hills. He watched as the human-female took her son and walked away but not before swearing she would continue keeping an eye on Stiles, Thomas continued to ignore the exchange of words and the flaring tempers when Whittemore who had arrived with the two McCall’s dared to hint that Mr. Alec Stilinski had been considering siding with Gerald Argent, both Talia and Thomas could hear the lie behind those words; but because Talia seemed to have it all under control Thomas focused on Stiles and nothing else. 

 

The moment Stiles started to return to consciousness, Thomas heard the moment the boy was engulfed with fear and the moment he realized what actions were being taken to ease the panic inside his boy Thomas leaped into action; Stiles hated needles, feared them, and Thomas was more than sure that Stiles would not appreciate getting pushed back into unconsciousness after fighting to get out of it. So Thomas rushed into the room, not bothered to try and behave accordingly to the instructions they had been given, he ordered the nurse away.

 

All his protective instincts awakening at the sight of Stiles strapped to the bed, which grew when seeing how Stiles focused on him and made such strong attempts to reach out to Thomas; like a frightened child seeking comfort from their father.

 

Thomas placed his hand in the desperate one that struggled against the bindings when every movement had to cause pain, he laid his other hand on the find brow of the boy that had tears in his beautiful eyes and made the sounds of a distressed pup.

 

When the nurse scurried off, the fear in Stiles began to settle down.

 

`I’m here. You’re safe.´ Thomas said, words soft and gentle.

 

`Mr. Hale.´ the familiar cold voice of the judge had Thomas glancing over his shoulder, glaring at the man who made a gesture for Thomas to follow him out of the room.

 

`He needs me.´ Thomas said turning his gaze back to Stiles, who was suddenly squeezing his hand tightly enough to prove how much life was left in the body of the boy he loved like a son and Thomas would not leave him.


	39. Let’s Not Pretend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The judgment came, the axe dropped on a family shockingly hard and unexpectedly while a boy was made to realize he’d lost the last remnants of the family he had leaving him orphaned. Stiles Stilinski was sure he was cursed, to bring nothing but misery and pain to everyone around him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do hope you don’t hate me over Stiles custody part.

 

 

Thomas was trying to get Cora to finish her breakfast while Talia was trying to brush the sudden rats-nest-like hair her daughter had managed to create during the night, Cora was in a bad mood because she wasn’t allowed to go visiting her Tiles unlike Derek and Thomas and her mother were; she was doomed to spend the morning with her gran-mother and uncle Peter and his mate and child. Abigail was humming happily as she was packing the small breakfast she’d prepared for Stiles, according to Abigail it was a far more nutritious and healthier option than the disgusting and tasteless food the hospital would try and force Stiles to eat. Derek had finished eating his breakfast long ago and was now waiting for his parents to be ready to leave for the hospital, every now and again he would double check he’d packed the comic’s he wanted to take to Stiles.

 

Talia had just finished one of two pigtails when there was a loud knock on the door, and everyone in the kitchen stilled and stared at one another.

 

Thomas felt like a failure for not hearing this sudden arrival of an unexpected visitor, and then again he wasn’t exactly the only werewolf in the house.

 

`I’ll get it, shall I.´ Peter shouted from the second-floor landing before the sound of a second string of knocks broke through the house, Thomas could hear Peter hurrying down the stairs while his mate complained over the fact that he was leaving her to attend to their daughter who was wailing once more.

 

As soon as the front-door was cracked ajar the scent reached Thomas and Talia, and both let out the name to that scent with a gasp of air, `Mahealani.´ their voices were as one and together they left their unhappy daughter and raced out of the kitchen and into the foyer where Keanu Mahealani was now standing wearing the same suite as yesterday, the man looked like he hadn’t slept an hour but the moment Talia and Thomas came into his line of sight his tiered face broke up into a bright smile; dimples deep and eyes bright.

 

`Congratulations it’s a boy! ´ Mahealani said with a loud voice that held pride and excitement, `We’ve got an hour to get to the courthouse to get the papers signed.´

 

`Are you kidding?´ Thomas asked his heart beginning to race, his hand instinctively searching for his mates andher hold was tight and she stared at Mahealani with wide disbelieving eyes.

 

`I’m not.´ Mahealani beamed at Thomas and Talia who both pulled him into a tight hug which was rather unexpected but Mahealani didn’t fight against it either, the man simply laughed and reminded them they had to head to the courthouse.

 

**~*~**

 

Gerald Argent sat enjoying a cup of coffee while reading his morning paper, he felt relaxed and confident. Gerald felt like there was nothing for him to worry about, because he knew that things were going to go his way as they should; because he’d seen to it.

 

Kate was home clearing out her bedroom, moving everything she wished to keep into one of the guest rooms so that Genim could have the room nearest Gerald’s, she had accepted the reasons behind it, which Gerald did appreciated.Gerald was going to have to get Chris to help him make the room a bit less feminine in appearance; new wallpaper and furniture would be needed. Gerald had just finished his scrambled eggs when the phone rang; both he and Kate looked over at the instrument of the annoying sound.

 

With a sigh, folding the newspaper, Gerald stood up and picked up the offending item and answered it with a voice that made no sign of mirroring the unhappiness he felt about his peaceful morning being disturbed by some unthoughtful soul; he hoped for the person on the other end to actually have a good reason to be calling him.

 

`Yes?´ Gerald said while watching his son make his way into the kitchen, Chris had been out until the early hours of the morning and it was definitely something he did not approve of unless Chris was out hunting werewolves or some other supernatural beasts that tried to destroy the rightful order of things.

 

`Mr. Argent? ´ The nervous voice of Whittemore answered, everything about the tone of voice told Gerald something was about to ruin his fine morning and the rest of the day.

 

`Yes, Mr. Whittemore.´ Gerald watched as Kate stopped chewing on her piece of toast and Chris went completely still by the coffeepot.

 

`The Hale’s got him.´ the words felt like an arrow through the stomach, and Gerald ends the call by slamming the phone on the kitchen counter over and over again until the rage inside of him gave away. Then he made the call to the man who had failed him, but the traitor of a judge did not answer which makes the hunter fume with rage. Gerald knew his offspring’s were watching him, Kate with an almost an air of interest but also delight at the sudden crack in his usually controlled appearance while Chris looked strangely like he was waiting for the axes to drop.

 

`I take it we’re not getting a baby brother after all.´ Kate says with that little tone of voice that showed the cruelty she possessed, Gerald gave a short nod before telling his children to leave him alone for the rest of the day; he needs to think.

 

**~*~**

 

_`Genim.´ His father’s voice was soft and gentle, urging away the peaceful slumber, and no matter how hard he tried to hold on to the fleeting mist of peaceful sleep Genim knew he couldn’t return to the dream of unicorns in silver armor and the great brave knights that looked like his daddy that were ridding them, `Genim.´_

 

_`Daddy.´ Genim whined trying to snuggle in closer to his pillow, teddy and his daddy who was sitting on the edge of his bed. Genim could feel his daddy’s strong fingers combing through his hair. Genim was so tiered because he’d tried to stay up with mama, waiting for daddy to get home from work; there had been something on the news that had made his mama nervous, she’d tried to hide it from him and Pia but even if Pia was unaware that mama was worried hewas not._

 

_`Breakfast time.´ his daddy said when Genim finally opened his eyes, his daddy wasn’t wearing his uniform but pale-blue plaid-shirt and jeans that told the little boy daddy was staying home today and that had Genim up and clambering up into his daddy’s lap._

 

_Daddy carried him downstairs and placed him in his special chair before walking over to mama who was singing to the radio while flipping the last pancake, Genim closed his eyes and wished they were either blueberry pancakes or chocolate chip pancakes, when he opened his eyes he caught a sight of his daddy kissing his mama and Pia who had already been sitting at the table coloring in her coloring book made the same sound she made when Mrs. Lee’s Pug threw up on Pia’s pretty new shoes. The sound made both mama and daddy laugh._

 

_Mama told daddy to take the syrup and butter over to the table, while she took the large plate of pancakes and the coffeepot. Daddy obeyed mama like he always did, mama always said she’d trained him good; Genim wasn’t sure what it meant but it had to be something good because mama always smiled so big when she said it and daddy always did the same. Daddy took his seat next to Genim and mama did the same on the other side, today its daddy who helps Genim with his breakfast cutting the blueberry pancakes into little pieces and trickling syrup over the delicious soft pieces speckledwith dark spots, Genim needed an outlet for the surge of energy so he clapped his hands excitedly which made his mama smile and Pia roll her eyes; it was something he wished he’d learn to do one day too, because big kids did that and Genim wanted to be a big boy too._

 

_Because of his slightly over-excited reaction to the pancakes his daddy had to help him at first because Genim couldn’t get one single piece into his mouth, so his daddy began to feed him pieces of delicious pancakes. But soon enough Genim calmed down enough to start eating his breakfast without help._

 

Stiles snaps awake from his sleep, shattering the pleasant feeling the dream had swept around him, realizing where he was at once told him his mind was no longer as unfocused as it had been for the past few days; he’s no longer drugged out of his mind, his body no longer starving for more hours of sleep than hours awake. It is only now what he begins to wonder where his father was, why his father wasn’t there, and it was only now that he began to ponder why he was in hospital and why everything hurt.

 

He’s just about to try and call for a nurse or anyone really, when the door to his room opens and in comes several familiar faces. He can tell something up because the Hale’s seem less tense and more relaxed with their smiles.

 

`You’re up!´ Thomas says voice cheerfully loud, yesterday or at least Stiles thinks it was yesterday the werewolf hadn’t been all smiles and cheerfulness, he’s carrying a basket which is quickly placed on the foot of the bed while Thomas took a seat on the edge of the bed.

 

`You look better this morning sweetheart.´ Talia said before giving Stiles a gentle, barely there, kiss on the cheek it was all very motherly and made Stiles ache for his own mother.

 

`Abigail’s made you breakfast, she doesn’t trust the hospital to feed you.´ Thomas laughed as he brought forth a plastic container, the scent of sweet apples fought against the scent that only a hospital could create, as the spoon with an almost honey-like substance neared Stiles the question of where his father was rose to the forefront of Stiles mind.

 

`W-wh-why isn’t my dad h-h-here?´ his question paused the advance of the teaspoon and had Talia going all ridged in her seat by the bed and Derek looked at both his parents with a look of panic. Talia looked at Thomas and the two were having a wordless conversation between each other, until Thomas got off the bed with a look that was almost as pained as Derek looked panicked.

 

`Wh-what’s going on?´ Stiles asked looking between the two older Hale’s a feeling of dread surging forth like a tsunami and he knew that there was nothing he could do to stop it. Derek had this strange appearance that would have been funny if it hadn’t been for the sudden shift in the mood; the lightness that had been latched on to the Hale’s was now completely gone, replaced by something more dark and heavy.

 

`W-where’s my d-dad?´ Stiles asked yet again, his heart picking up speed, `D-d-did I s-screw u-u-up a-a-again?´ Tears were stinging his eyes as he imagined all the ways he could have made his dad hate him.

 

Thomas who had been on his way out of the room froze by the door, and a low growl rumbled from him, and Derek looked ready to scurry off somewhere that wasn’t there, while Talia moved to sit on the edge of the bed.

 

`Stiles, honey,´ Talia’s voice gentle and full of concern, `What do you remember before waking-up in the hospital?´ one of her hands moved to hold his hand, the other ran up and down the arm that wasn’t entertaining the cast that felt heavy against the limb, `What do you remember before ending up in the hospital?´

 

The question pushes his heartbeat to pick-up speed, because it is such a strange question but then again not. Stiles attempts to remember, looking for some guidance from both Derek and then Thomas, but neither one will help him out.

 

`I don’t – I t-th-think,´ Stiles hesitates a little bit before he thinks he might have caught the last memory before waking-up in the hospital, `D-d-dad a-a-and I h-had p-p-pizza. W-watched TV. T-then b-bed.´ Stiles hadn’t been sick after eating, his dad had been so proud of him and that was why his dad allowed Stiles to choose the show to watch without argument and without complaining about how stupid todays shows were compared to the good-old-days.

 

`When was that, honey? ´ Talia asked, still doing her best to calm Stiles rising heartbeat with gentle touches.

 

`Why? ´ Stiles asked looking over at Derek who is suddenly very interested in the shape of the floor beneath his feet, `D-d-did someone b-break in to o-o-our h-house?´ Suddenly Stiles has this memory of being his, kicked, thrown to the floor, he can also remember his dad’s panicked screams, Stiles reaches out to grasp at Talia’s hand with both of his and squeezing it tightly, `D-did th-they h-hurt m-m-my d-d-daddy?´ the question has Stiles breaking down in tears.

 

`Shit.´ Thomas breathes out, hands in his hair, `Shit. Shit. Shit.´

 

`Wh-where’s m-m-my d-daddy? ´ Stiles sobs, pleading for Talia to tell him the truth by just the desperate look in his eyes.

 

`Oh Stiles, I need you to listen to me.´ Talia said as she moved a bit closer to him, and Stiles knew this was bad because of the pained expression on her fine face and he just knew his world was about to shatter, he struggled to reach through the clouds that kept his memories from turning into a maddening mixture; he needed to know if there had been something he could have done to save his dad, or had he failed his father like he did with  everything and everyone.

 

`I need you to know that you _are_ safe, that Thomas and I _will_ keep you safe.´ Talia’s words did not calm the panic inside Stiles chest but he still gave a short nod, which he might have not done if someone had warned him about what Talia was about to reveal to him.

 

`Stiles I know this will be hard, and I need you to be brave, and I need you to _trust_ me – can you do that, can you trust me? ´ Talia’s words were slow and calm, but there was a severity behind each of them that made Stiles’ so very nervous and yet he did trust Talia and gave a short nod. The tears streaming down his face burned but it was nothing compared to the dread he was experiencing.

 

`No one broke into your house Stiles.´ her words were firm, and she waited until Stiles gave a nod telling her to continue, `your father wasn’t attacked by strangers.’  Stiles can breathe a bit easier now, but there’s still something wrong about the situation and he tries to understand what it is, and hoping for more information he gives Talia a nod to continue.

 

`And you weren’t attacked by strangers.´ Stiles wants to argue against this new piece of information because he’s in the hospital, he’s got a cast on his arm leaving just enough finger action to keep them moving and the cast was travelling nearly all the way up to his elbow, he’s shoulder had been dislocated and he had several broken ribs, his entire body was in a constant state of aches and pains. There was no way he got all that pain from a simple fall from the bed.

 

`Honey, how long had your father been hurting you? ´

 


	40. Left Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It felt all surreal, and Stiles was waiting for the moment he would snap-out of this strange dream. None of this seemed real or right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO, yes, I’m a sucker for the Hale’s. My Dove wasn’t too happy about me giving Stiles to the Hale’s she’d expected all the horrible drama that would come with Stiles going to Gerald Argent and to those who are all “Why the Hell did she give Stiles to the Hale’s” let me tell you this is only the beginning because let’s be honest Gerald won’t just admit defeat. No, he’s going to get what he wants. But for now it’s the Hale’s 1 – Argent’s 0.

 

 

It was all incredibly surreal to him, and that small part of him that still danced around the lonely island of denial was expecting reality to soon hit and drag Stiles back to reality. Everything felt like a strange dream, and that little part of him kept telling Stiles that soon the alarm-clock would start to shrill or dad would come and tell him to get out of bed; that tiny part of him refused to believe that his dad had beat him for nearly two days until suddenly coming to his senses and calling the ambulance.

 

Stiles had no memory of the week before the supposed attack against his person by his father, he doesn’t remember spending the day with the Hale’s eating French-toast for breakfast and getting his hair-cut at the mall; his hair is now barely there because Stiles had asked for the rest of his hair to be shaved-off when the large bald-patch started to bug the ever-living-life out of him. Stiles can’t remember having ice-cream at the mall or spending the day shopping for new clothes with Talia.

 

Stiles doesn’t remember and he isn’t even sure he wants to remember what happened once Thomas had dropped him off at the house.

 

Making his way through the garden of stones and crosses Stiles felt like he did the first-time he’d gone to visit the grave of his mother, there was that familiar ghostly silence that brought him cold shivers even under the hot summer’s day. Thomas and Talia were both there at his sides, ready to catch him if he lost his balance or simply grew to tiered to take another step but still even with their presence right there he felt suddenly very alone.

 

When Talia had told him that his father had killed himself, and later when he and Derek were alone the older teen had let it slip how exactly his dad had achieved his death, Stiles had refused to believe it and had accused Talia of being a liar; but she’d allowed him his moment of anger with the graceful calmnessshe possessed and when he broke down crying she’d held him. Still, even now he wanted to call-out bull-shit, because his father had never seemed like the sort of person who would kill themselves when times were rough.

 

Stiles had argued that his father wouldn’t have killed himself just because he was risking time in prison, that if his father had been suicidal then he would have taken one of his guns and blown his brains away after Paige’s funeral; but Dr. Vries insisted that the only reason his father hadn’t gone off and killed himself after Paige was because he still had his son to care for, of course Stiles had argued back that his dad still had him, the boy and the doctor argued back and forth for nearly an hour until finally Stiles began to doubt his once firm belief his father had been murdered.

 

Now the idea of someone wanting to murder his father felt absurd to him, there was a new thought that had come to possess his mind it had driven Talia to not only change Dr. Vries to Dr. Rebecca Greenberg. After some guidance from Dr. Greenberg Talia agreed to take Stiles to his father’s final resting place; you see, Stiles had become convinced his father was still alive but didn’t want to see him, Stiles had become so completely taken by this thought that he started pestering Mr. Whittemore going as far as calling his house in the middle of the night.

 

It had been easier to believe that his father had simply abandoned him by giving up custody and perhaps cutting a deal with the judge or the prosecutor to lessen his sentence by throwing away his useless son, it all seemed more probable than his father simply hanging himself in his cell.

 

Even now when they came to a stop at the gravestone Stiles could not bring himself to believe his father was gone. The stone was simple and small, in all honesty it was probably the cheapest one you could get; it held only the name of the man supposedly dumped in the ground and the date of birth and death. There were no flowers there, while the grave beside it held several flowers.

 

Stiles stared at the stone and the name carved into it, for a few minutes he wondered why his father’s entire name hadn’t been carved into it but then again perhaps each letter had its own price?

 

As he stood there Stiles became angry because even if his father wasn’t dead, he had still left him behind like everyone did; his mother left him trapped in a car with her lifeless body, his sister left him with their dad who spent weeks beating Stiles for the smallest of things, and now his dad left him because he’d lost control.

 

 `W-wh-why d-d-does everyone l-l-leave m-me? ´ Stiles whispered, asking the wind to carry the question to what higher-powers that had a grudge against him, `W-w-what’s w-w-wrong with m-m-me? ´

 

Stiles was yanked with very little tenderness and grace into Thomas’ tight embrace, it was both comforting and painful, but even if it hurt a little Stiles would rather be there held a bit too tightly than be left to stand there facing what was probably an empty grave.

 

`There is absolutely nothing wrong with you my dear boy.´ Thomas said with that strange rumbling tone of voice that always seemed to comfort Stiles.  

 

`I’ll do my hardest never to leave you kiddo.´ Thomas promised against Stiles tearstained cheek, `I will be the idiot hollering like a god-damn hillbilly when you graduate. I’ll be the one walking around in t-shirts and hoodies with the name of the college you chose to attend, ´ Stiles almost laughed at the image of Thomas standing up and cheering loudly as Stiles graduated High School and later College, `I’ll be the one to frighten off unworthy suitors.´

 

`Oh he will most definitely be the one doing that.´ Talia chuckled as she wrapped herself around the boy who was legally hers to keep and her mate, together with Thomas they were creating a Stiles sandwich, and she kissed the back of the head that had been almost bashed in by a man unstable and unworthy, `I’ll be the one keeping Thomas from killing everyone who breaks your heart, while later going off to scare the shit out of them. And I’ll be the one sobbing my eyes out on your wedding day when you’re dressed in a fine suite looking all handsome and grown-up. And I’ll love you like a son, and I’ll always will.´

 

`Wh-why? ´ Stiles had to ask, feeling his cold body grow warm between the two bodies.

 

`Because you’ve always been a Hale.´ Talia answered placing another kiss against the battered head that had begun to heal, and that held scars from the surgeries done to ease the bleeding and swelling that had threatened the glorious mind of the boy whom she would protect and defend until her life ended.  

 


	41. Welcome Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> `You’re family.´

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m so freaking nervous about this chapter… I think I’m having a heart attack.

 

`Why exactly are we being forced to move out for this _human_ boy?´ Martha asked for the fifth-time that day, voicing the word human as if it was some disgusting word. Martha was dressed for the “Welcome to the family” party, and was trying to get the little bundle that looked more like Winston Churchill than something Peter and Martha could have created. Peter shrugged his shoulders, not bothered to give the old familiar answer of not knowing anything and simply guessing that Talia and Thomas thought too many people in the house would disturb the healing process of the broken human, `To be kicked out for the sake of a _human_ it is all very degrading, considering how you might be the next Alpha.´  

 

Of course Peter _knew_ why he was asked to leave the house, after the short affair that had transpired between Peter and Stiles it was no wonder he was asked to move out of the house with his small family, Peter was lucky that his small family weren’t simply kicked out of the house that they were allowed to stay until they were able to find new dwellings; of course there were rules set up to keep Stiles safe from Peter.

 

`There are not even any plans on giving the boy the bite, ´ Martha growled as she struggled with getting the chubby little arm through the sleeve of the ugly pink dress Martha insisted that the infant should wear because according to Martha it made the child look adorable; Peter didn’t agree, in his opinion nothing could make little Winston look adorable, `They’ll keep him human!? This would never have happen back home.´

 

Growing frustrated with his mate and her opinions Peter walked out of the bedroom that was in all honesty too small for all three of them, the room had once been chamber of solace in a house that was anything but calm and peaceful, but since Martha and the baby the room had become an unpleasant cage he now preferred to avoid.

 

Peter paused just for a moment outside the room that Stiles would be sharing with Derek, the two boys would be sharing until Martha and Peter moved out from the room next-door. The thought that Stiles would be sleeping on the other-side of the wall did things to Peter, the thought that he would be able to hear Stiles’ heartbeat in the middle of the night made the werewolf feel something stir inside him. The prospect that they might cross paths in the darkness of night sent tingles up and down Peter’s spine, the knowledge that Peter might walk in on Stiles in the shower or catch a sight of the boy wearing nothing but a towel made a familiar want ache inside of him.

 

Peter sighed as more of the forbidden thoughts began to arise inside his head, thoughts of hearing Stiles pleasure himself and how tiny little desperate moans would escape the boy even if Stiles tried to be as silent as possible. Many little indecent thoughts started to play out in Peter’s mind, knowing that he would soon reek of arousal Peter hurried off and away from the door the room that would house two teenage boys, forcing his thoughts to settle on such things like having to watch his sister give birth to Derek who just had to decide to exit his mother when everyone else was out of the house; yes, that thought cleared the want Peter had begun to feel.

 

Peter made his way downstairs which was decorated for the arrival of the newest member of the pack and family.  There were plenty of balloons, Richard had always liked balloons and if you asked Richard would always say you could never have enough balloons; Peter had no idea how Talia had allowed Richard to get the decorations for the party, the werewolf had bought nothing but balloons.There were banners and posters made by the younger members of the family hanging of the walls and above doorways and archways, each one welcoming Stiles to his new home. Some members had bought gifts to welcome the boy to the pack, Peter’s mother hadn’t bought a gift but she had knitted a red cardigan with a hood Ashe had reasoned this creation by the fact that Stiles was always so very cold; Richard and his mate had bought Stiles several new graphic t-shirts and a new backpack for school and Thomas had also bought something but no one knew what it was as the Alpha’s mate was very secretive about it.  

 

The fact that there were gifts was one of the reasons why Martha was so unhappy about Stiles; she did not think it proper for a pack of werewolves to give so much attention to a human boy. Although Martha did not approve of Stiles and the way the pack were behaving over the human, Peter understood the urge to have the boy in the pack; the boy was made to be in a pack, and not just any pack but the Hale pack.

 

Richard was hanging up what appeared to be the last banner, another sheet ruined by paint and glitter. Since Peter’s fall from grace it was Richard and Abigail who managed things when the Alpha couple weren’t home, it was also Richard who had followed Talia to the house where Stiles had not even managed to dwell in for a year they’d chosen a few things from the house to bring back to the Hale House where everyone hoped Stiles would find his true home; they brought back things they thought Stiles would appreciate, some things were put in storage while the rest would be sold. Thomas hadn’t been allowed to join the little trip to the house because there was a fear he would lose control once faced with the scene where Stiles’ misfortune and pain had begun, and although Talia had returned seemingly in control there was a shortness of temper there that had everyone on edge and Richard hugged his mate and children several times breathing in their scents; Richard also sought comfort from his mother.

 

Although Talia and Richard had been allowed into the house Peter had also visited the dreadful place, although back then it had still been a scene of crime; the smell of everything that had played out had been almost sickening, Peter was able to track the area from where the cruelty had started and all the way down to where it had ended. To this day he did not understand grim need he’d had to see the place of torture and cruelty.

 

Peter could hear Richard’s mate and kids helping out Abigail in the kitchen. Peter’s mother had baking for hours, and was from what Peter could hear finishing the details of the cake she had baked. From the outside the loud sounds of Derek and Laura were arguing about the seating arrangement which was such a waste of time considering how Talia could veto every single decision by flashing her Alpha eyes.

 

Fearing he would be dragged into some silly task of helping out had Peter escaping outside of the house, deciding to take a stroll in the woods. He would not stray too far from the house because he wished to be there with the rest of his pack to greet and welcome young Stiles to his new home. He wanted to see the boy under controlled circumstances. Peter wanted to see the boy when Peter had keep his thoughts and emotions under control.

 

Peter wasn’t sure how much of the injuries had healed, of course he had been there when Talia had explained to the little ones about how Stiles might not look the same as before; explaining how Stiles had been hurt pretty badly and needed _everyone_ to be careful around him until his bones had healed. But still there had been no pictures and no _real_ details to draw out a picture of Stiles’ appearance; Peter had only seen Stiles through a sheet of glass when his face was swollen into a shape that made the boy look nothing like a human being.

 

**~*~**

 

`Eyes on the road Love.´ Talia said with a voice full of love, there was not a single drop of irritation, still it was enough to snap Thomas’ gaze away from the review mirror that continued to draw his attention off of the road. It was a hard thing to do, to abandon his line of sight of Stiles who’d barely managed to slip into the Volvo before drifting off into a peaceful slumber. Thomas still struggled to believe that they _finally_ had the boy, that Stiles was finally his to take care of; it amazed him that Stiles was coming home to _his_ house and Thomas would _never_ let Stiles leave; well, he would of course allow Stiles to go to school and college when the time came, but of course Stiles wouldn’t be allowed to leave for college unless he promised to come home for the weekends and every possible break. 

 

`We’ve got him, Thomas, he’s here.´ his mates voice was so soft and tender it made it almost impossible to believe that she was a Alpha, her hand came to rest on his hand and they laced their fingers together, `We’ve got him, Love.´

 

`I know. I know.´ Thomas answers voice breaking ever so slightly, `It’s – it’s just hard to think we’ve _actually_ got _him_.´ Thomas glanced back up at the review mirror.

 

The soft patter of the very human heart told Thomas Stiles was there in the backseat, sound asleep and peaceful instead of in the cold ground that held the man that had nearly killed him or in the hands of the Argents. Stiles was there in the backseat all safe and sound and Thomas knew this but he still needed to make sure the kid he’d wanted for so long was really there; he needed to keep an eye on Stiles, just to make sure Stiles stayed where he wanted him to be.

 

`You really love him, don’t you.´ Talia said, an all knowing smile plastered on her beautiful face while her eyes flashed with something that told Thomas that the two of them would retire for the night early; if Thomas was lucky Talia would do all those little things she only did when it was a special occasion like Thomas’ birthday.

 

`You know I do.´ Thomas said, sounding almost hurt she’d think him incapable of loving Stiles. Talia let out a bemused laughter before planting a gentle kiss on his cheek.

 

`That I do.´ she said against the skin of his cheek and it brought Thomas a great deal of pleasurable shivers.

 

Thomas looked at the sleeping boy who was still healing, the time it took for humans to heal was rather frustrating, but at least the boy was in a shape that allowed Stiles to heal. He could imagine all the little things the kids would write on the heavy cast, perhaps even a few stickers would be glued against the white surface.

 

`God, I hope we’ve got everything ready for him.´ Talia sighed as she slipped the papers she had been scanning through into the folder Mahealani had given them; all the hospital records and birth certificate which gave Talia a few details about the boy she had not known about, there were school report-cards and reports from the social workers and the child advocate that had been involved with Stiles.

 

`Let’s hope so.´ Thomas said as they turned to drive up the road leading towards the Hale House. It didn’t take long before they caught sight of the house, and all the balloons.

 

`Bloody balloons.´ Thomas growled, while Talia rolled her eyes before she groaned out, `Richard.´

 

As soon as the sound of the car reached the pack there were people outside the house waiting on the porch, which made Talia feel proud over her pack and their willingness to accept Stiles into their fold, and Thomas could feel the pride his mate was feeling and he too felt it although the moment he caught sight of Peter he wished they could have just banished the werewolf from the pack. Thomas would stay as close as possible to Stiles, he would make sure Peter and his poison could not touch his son.

 

~*~

 

`Stiles.´ the soft voice called for him, pulling him out of his dreamless sleep. As he starts to stir awake he feels a gentle hand against his cheek and chest just above where his heart was hiding. When he finally opens his eyes he’s greeted by the amazing eyes that belonged to Talia Hale; eyes her son had been blessed with and Stiles was so envious over the brilliant color of different greens and hints of earthy brown and the undertones of blue.

 

`Hi.´ Stiles yawned, slightly confused by the close proximity and just a tad bit confused by why he wasn’t in the hospital; well, that confusion lasted only for a few minutes as he remembered what had been going on that day. A great big smile appeared on Talia’s face, and with a voice of fondness and laughter she repeated the one word to him.

 

`Hi.´ the thumb against his cheek moves gently in a soothing motion, `Sleep well? ´

 

Stiles nods, it takes him a moment to realize that the car has stopped moving.

 

Talia moves to unbuckle his seatbelt when Stiles makes a move to attempt to do it on his own, Thomas had strapped him in like some great-big-baby before leaving the hospital and then the cemetery but Stiles wouldn’t complaining about the way the impressive werewolf behaved because it was nice feeling cared for.

 

`Are w-w-we there? ´ Stiles asks as the belt slides off of him.

 

`Yes. We’re home, honey.´ Talia said softly, glancing over her shoulder at someone, `You think you’re ready to face the family?´ the question has Stiles shaking his head which in turn has Talia sliding into the car next to him closing the door behind her. It wasn’t really the idea of seeing the Hale’s that had him feeling like he should crawl underneath the seat and hide, it was not the prospect of seeing Abigail and Cora that had panic rising in his chest; it was the word family, Stiles didn’t have a family, not since his dad decided to abandon him.

 

Hearing the word used around him just hurt and he knew he wasn’t a Hale, and they could call the judge tomorrow and tell the man that they didn’t want him anymore.  

 

`What’s wrong baby?´ the question feels like a loaded gun to him, and Stiles would fiddle with the sleeve of his shirt if his fingers weren’t all painful and stiff, he doesn’t know what to say without sounding like an idiot. Talia takes his less damaged hand in hers before speaking again, `We’re all nervous. We’ve worked for days trying to make the house a proper home for you, ´ her words has Stiles staring at the Alpha in disbelief, `but we’re still afraid we’ve forgot something important – like a bed.´

 

`A bed is rather important.´ Stiles can’t help himself, the words just fall out of his mouth and when there out he feels like crying because his mouth was one of the reasons his father had left him; one of the reasons his dad had been reduced to hitting him. But there is no reaction of irritation or anger from the Alpha, no she laughs and pulls him closer before placing a kiss on his temple.

 

`Stiles honey, we all want you here.´ Talia tells him, and Stiles can’t understand the reason behind it especially when he’s not even a werewolf. Stiles realizes he’d just spoken out loud when Talia goes rigid beside him, her hold tightening. She stares at him all wide-eyed and shocked.

 

`I – I...´ Stiles stutters, not sure what to say, afraid he’s just got himself killed or kicked out and thrown into foster care.

 

`You know what we are? ´ Talia asked, and Stiles averts his eyes but gives a nod before answering, `Yes, Alpha.´

 

Talia sinks down into the seat, pulling him closer, and resting her head against his, before finally speaking with a voice so motherly it makes something inside of him ache to the point that all Stiles wants to do is to crawl up into her lap, `I’m glad you know. I feared how the “We’re werewolves” talk would have played out. I’ve been thinking about all the different ways to start that conversation, and let me tell you having the birds and the bees talk with Laura and Derek felt much easier than the imaginary talks I had with you about my species.´

 

`Y-y-you’re not mad? ´ Stiles asked looking up at Talia who simply smiled down at him like he was something lovable.

 

`Baby, how could I be mad at you over the truth? ´ She then places another sweet kiss against the very same spot she had but a moment ago left the first one, `Are you mad at us?´

 

Talia’s question confused Stiles, and that must have been visible on his face as she repeated the question, `Are you mad at me and Thomas for not telling you about our family? ´ Stiles was quick to shake his head, and then he allowed his head to rest on her shoulder as he gave his thoughts on the matter of secrets, `You were just protecting your family, I get that.´

 

`You’re family Stiles.´ Talia said as she rubbed her cheek against the top of his head.

 

 


	42. Home At Last

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles Stilinski was there, like some said home, but it did not make the boy feel any less nervous or ease the guilt inside of Derek. All it did was bring peace to Thomas Hale.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soon we’ll get to some good stuff, or I hope so.

 

Derek watched as Stiles walked into their room for the second-time that day, the first one was just a brief visit where Stiles was simply shown his new room, told where his things could be placed; although Derek was sure their belongings would soon enough get mixed together, like the belongings of brothers sharing a room should. When they’d entered the room followed by his mother and father Stiles had been a bit nervous and apologetic over “forcing” Derek to share his room with him, but Stiles hadn’t looked so anxious and smelled so much of shame and worry then as he did now. Stiles had walked into the room twitching with nerves, it made Derek smile seeing something so familiar still remaining in Stiles; there were slowly healing scars on the top of his head usually hidden underneath the beany Stiles seemed to prefer to wear now, there were scars on his face that should become barely visible with time and there was unfamiliar stiffness so it was nice to see something familiar amongst all the unfamiliar things.

 

There was an unfamiliar clumsiness to Stiles now that had not been there before, the human had always been a bit graceless but now it was one more noticeable, the unstableness stemmed from the optic-nerve-damage caused to Stiles left eye. Stiles wasn’t completely blind in the left eye but the vision was slightly impaired and from what Derek’s mum had explained Stiles might suffer from the occasional headache because of it.

 

Stiles looked around the room nervously, avoiding eye contact with Derek as he made his way over to the bed where he hesitated for a minute before saying, `I g-g-get n-n-nightmares. So i-i-if I wake-up s-s-screaming, I’m s-s-sorry.´ Stiles had never sounded so small and child-like.

 

`It’s okay.´ Derek says, and he’s not lying because it is okay, Derek gets it because he’d suffered from nightmares for a few weeks after killing Paige; he still had them from time to time but he no longer woke-up screaming and running towards the Stilinski house.  

 

Stiles gives him a weak smile, the missing teeth not showing. Derek hates the broken look Stiles has these days and hopes that with time they can bring back at least a bit of the kid he’d grown fond of. Stiles is about to slide into his bed, the bedwetting is left unmentioned, and Derek realizes Stiles hasn’t changed for bed.

 

`Dude, you can’t sleep in that. You’ll never get comfortable.´ Derek says as he walks over to the set of draws that have handles that should make it easy for Stiles to pull each draw open; his dad had spent three days searching for the right handles for doors and draws and with Uncle Rick they’d changed several handles around the house. Derek pulls out the lower-half of the batman PJ’s his mother had bought Stiles; Cora had stolen the upper-half because she’d not grasped the concept that Stiles’ scent wasn’t attached to it yet. Then he snatched one of the t-shirts his dad had bought for Stiles.

 

No one really wanted too much of Stiles’ previous life in the house or anywhere near Stiles, the pictures brought into the house were all of Stiles and his mother and sister not a single one held the man that had beat Stiles bloody and broken.

 

`Here, change into something more comfortable. If you need another blanket or a pillow tell me, and I’ll get them for you.´ Derek nearly dropped the pieces of clothing he was holding when the scent of tears sneaked into his senses, he dropped down next to Stiles, worried he was in pain and ready to call for his mum or dad.

 

`Stiles?´  Derek voice trembled slightly as he reached for the patch of skin visible, trying to leech out some of the pain but all Derek felt was ache he could imagine Stiles enduring, `What’s wrong?´

 

`I c-c-can’t. ´ Stiles whimpered turning his face away from Derek, who quickly placed his hand against Stiles cheek and guiding him to look at Derek.

 

`Can’t what?´ Derek asks as he tries to dry some of the tears escaping, the stench of shame rolling off of Stiles makes him feel slightly sick. Stiles shakes his head but Derek repeats the question a few times, his voice more demanding than before; he’s seen the tactic work on Stiles before when his mum and dad did it.

 

`G-g-get c-c-ch-changed.´ Stiles answered before bursting into loud sobs that shook frail body.

 

`Oh.´ was all Derek could say, before his mind told him that wasn’t going to help Stiles one bit.

 

`Listen.´ Stiles said with a slightly firmer voice, hands cupping Stiles face that was slightly off in appearance even with the surgery to mend the shattered bones, `We’re brothers now,´ the words had Stiles pausing and staring wide-eyed at him, `and brothers help each other out. So if you need help, _tell me_. You’re my brother Stiles and I will help you get changed if you need me too, and you will help me with my homework.´

 

Then Derek took one of Stiles feet and began to remove the socks, `You need to tell me if you need help, or tell mum or dad,´ seeing the missing toes made Derek’s eyes sting with unwanted tears, `When I’ve needed your help, I’ve asked you, right?´ he rubbed some warmth into the cold foot.

 

`Y-y-yeah.´ Stiles answered hesitantly, which made Derek nod and moved to help Stiles with the belt and then his jeans, `So if I ask you for help on something as horrible as chemistry or math you can damn well ask help for something as simple as this.´

 

Carefully Derek began to pull of the jeans that were a size too big for Stiles, but they all hoped he would grow into them. But he paused when he caught sight of the markings of what had to have been a beating done by a belt, the scars there were so stark against the pale skin that they appeared almost like fresh welts. Derek could feel the first set of tears escaping him because he could never truly understand the amount of pain Stiles had gone through.

 

`I-i-it’s n-not th-that b-b-bad.´ Stiles said, voice barely above a whisper, and when Derek looked up at his brother he found Stiles avoiding any and all eye-contact with him. Derek wanted to force Stiles to look at him, to ask him how the marks covering the bony thighs weren’t bad. But Derek couldn’t ask, he couldn’t demand Stiles to look at him because Derek couldn’t let Stiles see how much this hurt him and his voice box felt broken. Instead of saying or doing anything he continued removing the jeans, only to find that there were horrible marks covering the long legs and all he could do was wonder whether or not his parents were aware of the amount of damaged done to the pale boy.  

 

Derek helped Stiles slip into the lower part of the batman PJ’s before helping the shirt off of Stiles, and when the sleeves were no longer covering Stiles arm the sight that greeted Derek were more unpleasant marks of the similar ones that covered Stiles’ legs and thighs, and when the t-shirt was off so was Derek. He couldn’t help the flow of tears that started at the sight of Stiles mangled torso.

 

`I’m so sorry Stiles. I’m so sorry.´ Derek sobbed into Stiles shoulder wrapping his arms as tightly as he dared around the much smaller frame, when Stiles arms wrapped around him Derek started to cry even harder.

 

`N-n-not y-y-your fault.´ Stiles whispered into Derek’s ear, rubbing as best he could gentle circles against Derek’s back, `N-n-not your f-f-fault Derek.´

 

**~*~**

 

Most of the pack had wrapped him up in their arms the moment he had stepped out of the car, it was a strange experience to feel so many arms wrapping around him and to feel their need to feel him alive and there. The first member of the Hale pack to hug Stiles was Abigail Hale who took her time holding him, kissing the unmarred areas of skin, and with a voice laced with happiness and sorrow the elder of the pack said, `Darling boy, welcome home.´

 

Everyone but Peter Hale and his mate Martha came over to him and welcomed him with open arms. Peter and his mate simply looked at the others hugging Stiles, and Stiles was thankful none of the two tried to approach him. The amount of love and affection he felt from everyone but Mr. and Mrs. Peter Hale had Stiles in tears which over caused everyone to circle around him and touching him so very gently in an attempt to comfort him.

 

Stiles had never imagined that the Hale’s would go to the length they did to make him feel welcomed to their pack, seeing all the banners and posters as well as all the balloons Richard had bought made Stiles feel like his heart might actually burst. There was a great big cake made by Abigail and there were gifts that had been bought for him; Stiles had several moments when he simply broke down in tears, and what made it even worse and more humiliating was the way someone was always there to wrap him up into a tight embrace and telling him things Stiles wished his father was there to tell him.

 

All the attention, all the affection drained Stiles to the point he dozed of a few times in the middle of the “celebrations” but no one seemed to mind it instead they all seemed to simply make sure he was as comfortable as possible; Stiles woke-up once on the bench at the back of the house his head on Richards lap while all wrapped up in a blanket, another time he was brought out of his sleep by Cora latching herself to his side while he was laying on the blanket placed near the table set out in the back garden, and the third-time was after finishing dinner and dozing off on the couch in the den when waking up Stiles had found himself opening his eyes he found his head resting on Thomas Hale’s lap; and that Cora was sleeping between his legs with her head resting on her mother’s lap, Cora had her arms wrapped around Stiles leg like it was a stuffed toy of sorts.

 

By the time Stiles was able to dare to retire for the night without sounding disrespectful, every bone in his body ached with exhaustion and his emotions were going crazy, he could barely climb the stairs even with Derek’s support and help. Once in the bathroom where Stiles proceeded to wash his teeth which was a pain considering how his hand and fingers ached so much so that Stiles was barely able to hold the toothbrush without dropping it, he’d just finished brushing his teeth when Talia knocked at the bathroom door, `Stiles, are you ready dear?´ He really wasn’t ready for what would come now, he didn’t like the fact that she would see the damage done to him, but he knew she could have easily break through the door and so he unlocked it and allowed her to step inside; they were silent through the ordeal, her touches were gentle and she took away as much of the pain that came with the care she showed his wounds and when the bandages were changed and replaced it really was a wonderful thing have a werewolf taking away all the pain that came with it.

 

`Goodnight, sweetheart, ´ Talia said as left Stiles by the door to Derek’s bedroom, placing a fine kiss against his forehead, `You just call me if you need anything, okay? If you’re in pain or you feel like you can’t sleep then just call-out for me.´

 

`Okay.´ Stiles says with a voice so small he can’t even recognize it as his own, `Goodnight.´ and with that he slipped into the room of Derek Hale, feeling nervous about taking so much of the other teenagers space; he wouldn’t blame Derek if he’d get pissed-off at Stiles being there and go back to being the kid that beat and degraded him in the halls of their high school.

 

Stiles says a nervous Hi before moving over to the bed was his now, apologizing once more for being there and again Derek gives the lame and probably untrue reply of it being fine. While pulling the covers aside he realizes that he couldn’t undress himself without causing himself a fine amount of pain in the process, afraid that it would be pushing Derek’s charitable nature to ask for help in this matter Stiles makes a choice to sleep in the clothes he had been wearing since the nurses helped him get dress at the hospital. Stiles also doesn’t want to call out for Talia because she was probably already settled down next to Thomas on the couch or tucking Cora in for the night and she’d already done so much for him; and knowing the nature of Thomas letting him see the mess that was now Stiles’ body made it impossible for him to ask assistance from him and if Stiles called out for Richard who probably would help him but asking for Richard’s help might rub Thomas the wring way, and asking for help from any of the females in the house made him feel incredibly nervous so no.

 

When Derek catches him trying to slide into bed while still wearing all his clothes the werewolf hurries to grab a change of clothes for him and Stiles just can’t deal with it without starting to cry like some girl, and because he’s weak he’s crying and that has Derek demanding for answers and forcing him to confess how useless he is; but Derek’s reaction is nothing like the one Stiles had imagined the older teen to have, he is caught perfectly off guard by hearing Derek use the word brother when it came to the both of them. And what makes it all even more overwhelming is the gentle way Derek helps him, the way he takes of each piece of clothing as if afraid he’d hurt Stiles in the process. The way Derek dresses Stiles like he was something precious is just too much.

 

**~*~**

 

Thomas had finished making his rounds around the house making sure every door was locked and every window was closed, smiling at the decorations that had yet to be pulled down and tossed away, punching a few balloons playfully as he moved through the first-floor of the house. He took his time admiring the new picture that had found its place amongst all the other ones of the pack and family; a Stiles from a time before the Hale’s was smiling at Thomas eyes wide and beautifully bright and Thomas hoped that one day that kid in the picture returned. With Stiles in their family they would need to start moving around some of the pictures on the mantelpiece, but Thomas was sure Abigail would figure it all out.

 

Thomas made his way upstairs, pausing by the door leading into the room that now held both of his boy’s, he opened the door as silently as possible and looked in on Stiles and Derek there was this need in him that demanded him to make sure Stiles was alright and safe. Thomas was pleased to find the two curled up together on Stiles bed, like brother’s should when one was injured and needing comfort, Thomas had never felt as proud of Derek as he felt now, he was taking his part as Stiles big-brother so well that Thomas almost wanted to walk over to his oldest son and just tell him exactly that.

 

 Seeing the two like that reminded him of all the times he and his brothers would curl up around each other when one of them was hurt or just feeling down and exhausted. Thomas could smell the tears that tainted the air still even if those salty pearls had been dropped an hour ago. He walks into the room, as silently as possible and carefully tucked his two kids under the covers before blessing each child a kiss. Breathing in their scents, humminghappily as the stench of Stiles birth and hospital was fading under the scent of pack and family.  

 

The party hadn’t been enough to convince Thomas that Stiles was there to stay, no matter how much Stiles presence had been there or how many little laughter’s had escaped Stiles or all the times Thomas had provided the child with food and drink, none of it had been enough to convince the werewolf that Stiles was there. But the scent of the boy was slowly seeping into everything around the house, the knowledge that Stiles would be there in the morning had Thomas smiling happily as he took his exit and made his way to his own chamber of rest. The knowledge that his son was finally home brought a sense of peace inside him he had not felt before, it felt like completion; his pack and family felt whole.

 

 


	43. Start Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was not an easy thing, to adjust to having the human boy in the Hale House. Or was it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking forever to post this chapter, work has been hell and I’m still recovering from the illness that hit me. This is just another chapter about the Hale’s and Stiles. The last part wasn’t in the original story but I just wanted to bring up the story behind Stiles Jeep. If you hate it tell me and I’ll remove it.

 

The house had fallen silent and still after a day that had been anything but calm, Stiles’ return to the Hale’s had been a source of great joy for most of the members of the Hale-pack but it had been a trying day for Peter who had to stay at least several arms-lengths away from Stiles or someone was snarling and baring their sharp canines at him; since Stiles knew about werewolves no one was bothered to hide their more animalistic side.  Then there was Martha’s negative nature which hadn’t helped Peter the slightest, and when his pack sensed the hostility Martha felt towards Stiles had Peter falling even more from grace.

 

Feeling like the presence of his mate was slowly suffocating him had Peter Hale leaving the bed without much thought about his mate who was sleeping peaceful. There was no reaction from the female as he left the bed, not a single hint of acknowledging his departure from the room.

 

Peter didn’t even glance over at the infant who had been as obnoxious as its mother had been.

 

Peter didn’t bother to get dressed, why should he when everyone in the house was asleep and it wasn’t like he was completely naked considering Peter was wearing a pair of black briefs he’d worn to bed, and in a house of werewolves it wasn’t too uncommon to find one or two walking around in even less than that. Peter closes the bedroom door behind him feeling his body relaxing as he was free from Martha for at least a little while.

 

Seeing the bedroom door to the room next-door ajar had Peter instinctively chasing a look at the human boy, he moved towards the door cautiously all his focus on staying unheard by keen ears. The moment his eyes fall on the two sleeping forms on the bed that should have only held one person, Peter feels something dark uncurl inside him at the sight of his nephew in bed with the human; Peter stepped inside the room claws extending and fangs emerging as he took in the details of the two shape’s on the bed, the more he saw the more irritated he became with both boys.

 

How dare Derek lay there curled around the smaller boy, how dare he hold the younger teen against his body like the two were lovers? And the nerve of Stiles to lay there with his head above the beating heart of Peter’s nephew, how dare Stiles’ look so peaceful and comfortable in the arms of another?

 

The darkness inside of him wants to strike at the two of them, punish them and teach them to keep their hands and limbs to themselves. Peter felt like separating the two. He wanted to force Stiles out of Derek’s hold, he wanted to drag the boy away from the younger werewolf and hiding him somewhere where only Peter could find him, he wanted to keep Stiles hidden until he became the Alpha and Peter could do what he wanted to the boy.  Then again perhaps Peter could just settle for dragging Derek out of the bed and breaking both his arms and a few more bones while teaching Derek to keep his hands off of Stiles.  

 

As he reaches out towards the boy with skin as pale as the moon, he hears a growl from the doorway it is one he has heard since the day he was born.

 

`Get out.´

 

The words are strong, unforgiving but not loud enough to awaken the young werewolf on the bed or the human boy in his arms, and the voice holds enough power to pull Peter away from the bed and turn around to face his mother.

 

`Get out. Or I will tell Thomas that I saw you here lurking over Stiles.´ the threat is one Peter knows his mother capable and willing to see come to life, and Peter is not all that willing to become Thomas’ favorite punching bag for another few months.

 

`I was just making sure they were alright, I thought I heard something.´ Peter explains, lies, but he can tell by the roll of his mother’s eyes that she does not believe him one bit which wasn’t too shocking because since she’d learned about Peter’s little affair with Stiles Abigail Hale had lost her faith in her youngest.

 

`Stay away from him, or it will not only be Thomas you have to fear.´ Abigail hissed as soon as she had closed the door behind Peter, seemingly sealing the two pups inside the room and away from Peter’s clawed hands. Peter gave his mother a short nod before making his way downstairs as innocently as possible, but he felt anything but innocent as he thought about the boy upstairs in bed with _his_ nephew.

 

**~*~**

 

Abigail Hale did not sleep well the first night with Stiles in the house. Her newest grandchild wasn’t safe as long as her youngest remained in the house, even when Peter left there were no guaranties thathe would not try something; she had seen Peter watching Stiles the moment the boy stepped out of the car, want glowing in his blue eyes all the time and those cold eyes were always searching for Stiles there was also a great deal of jealousy and anger in Peter’s eyes when he found the boy in close contact with anyone; the look in the Peter’s eyes and the stance he had when he had caught sight of Stiles taking a nap with his head on Richards lap.

 

Abigail would not allow her son to further destroy the boy; she would rather kill her own son than allow him to continue destroying an innocent boy for his twisted pleasure.

 

When she had heard Peter exit his room she had leaped out of bed and rushed to protect the child, there was no doubt in her mind that Peter would try something that he would go to the boy, and although Abigail had known she’d find Peter lurking by Stiles’ sleeping form she was still shocked by it; Peter stood there back tense each muscle clearly visible underneath the fine skin, claws extended and fingers twitching to rip into something.

 

`Get out.´ Abigail growled, fully prepared to end her days while protecting Stiles, and she felt no shame in usingthe well-known hatred Thomas felt towards Peter against him. It worked.

 

For the rest of the night Abigail remained awake, listening to every sound that came from Peter. It was only when morning arrived and Thomas rose from bed that she relaxed, she hid her sleeplessness by an air of cheerfulness and the need to make Stiles’ first breakfast as a Hale special. When Stiles finally came downstairs she took a careful sniff at him, and looked him over to make sure Peter had not sneaked up on Stiles; all she could smell was Derek, tears and the scent of embarrassment.

 

`Did you sleep well Stiles? ´ Abigail asked as she gave the boy gentle but firm hug, kissing his cheek before steering him over to the dining room table, Stiles gave a short nod and Derek was quick to inform everyone already gathered at the table, `Stiles was nightmare free.´ which had Thomas beaming at Stiles like the boy had suddenly found a cure against wolfsbane poisoning, Abigail found Thomas’ affections towards Stiles rather adorable.

 

`Tiles!´ Cora’s little voice broke out loud and clear, and the sound of her still ungraceful running spoke of her arrival as did the way she threw herself at Stiles and climbed up into his lap in a fashion that made Abigail wonder if her granddaughter was indeed a werewolf and not a monkey.

 

`Good morning Princess.´ Thomas said earning just a wave from his little girl who was trying to settle in Stiles lap, when she bumped against the cast and Stiles hissed out a breathe Cora looked alarmed, tears in her eyes as she realized she had hurt her Tiles, she settled against Stiles chest and apologized with tearful eyes.

 

`It’s okay, you didn’t do anything wrong. It was my fault for getting hurt.´ Thomas huffed out a sound of outrage while Derek looked absolutely shell-shocked and Abigail, well she hadn’t slept an hour last night and grabbed Stiles by the chin and forced Stiles to look at her and with eyes glowing amber and an appearance less human she corrected the pup sitting at the table she had set.

 

`You did _nothing_ to deserve what _that man_ did to you. _Nothing_.´ Abigail rubbed her thumb against the trembling chin, `You did _not_ deserve a single thing that man did or said to you. I will _not_ allow him to continue poisoning your mind, do you hear me pup? ´ Stiles swallowed nervously before nodding, she could tell he did not believe her when it came to his innocence, and she knew she could not make him believe what his mind refused to accept; Abigail could only hope Mrs. Greenberg would be able to outsmart the horrible voices that were frolicking inside the head of Stiles Stilinski.

 

No, not Stilinski but Hale. Abigail would never use that horrible man’s name when it came to Stiles. Stiles Hale was a much better name for the boy.

 

**~*~**

 

There was a feeling of comfort and warmth that held Derek under the fine hold of peaceful sleep, there was a strange weight against his chest that was unfamiliar but at the same it was rather pleasant. The weight made waking-up struggle but in the end all the sounds drew him out into the land of the wake; the new day was sneaking in through the cracks in the curtains, and with the light the house became alive and loud.

 

Derek opened his eyes slowly. He couldn’t stop the smile that sneaked out of him.

 

Derek raked his fingers across the head that was showing signs of fine brown hair beginning to grow. His touch made Stiles groan in protest and rub his nose against Derek’s chest, it made Derek chuckle because it was such a strange thing to lay so close to Stiles and at the same time it felt familiar and right. Stiles had from what Derek could tell by his own experience that night, slept without a single nightmare to torment him, and it almost felt like a shame having to bring Stiles out of the peace the boy had probably not felt for a long time without the help of mind numbing drugs.

 

`Stiles, we need to get up, or mum’s going to come knocking or even worse she’ll send Laura.´ mentioning Laura had Stiles stirring until he could look up at Derek, `No. Not Laura.´ then the two started laughing because both of them knew that Laura would not be gentle in the way she would bring the two boys up and out of bed and all the way downstairs.

 

Derek was the first out of bed, well-awake and eager to face the new day. Derek got dressed unaware of the fact that Stiles had not yet moved out of bed, and when he turned around he could not hide his surprise when he found Stiles still there as if not moved at all; and then it hit Derek, Stiles had in fact not moved or he had but only so faintly he had not seen the change.

 

`Stiles?´ Derek whispered as he moved over to the bed, he found Stiles’ eyes shut tightly and he could see the struggle Stiles’ body was experiencing as the boy tried to move his stiff limbs,`Stiles tell me what to do. Tell me, tell me what I should do.´ He reached out and placed his hand against the patch of skin visible on the lower-part of Stiles back. The t-shirt had moved up enough to reveal the patch of skin that was not only damaged by the lashing of a belt but also the carved out letters that created the word WHORE against the patch of skin just above the crack of the ass, Derek had seen the word SLUT carved into the skin bellow the navel of the human boy and knowing now that Mr. Stilinski had believed so strongly that his son was anything than the good boy he was hurt Derek.With tears in his eyes Derek began to leech away as much of the pain Stiles was in that morning, and there was pain there to be removed. And as the cruel torment beneath the skin that cover flesh and bone, Stiles began to move his limbs slowly but still whimpering; Derek could not describe the sickening pain that flashed up into his arm and body, ever movement of the body beneath his hand sent shockwaves of pain.

 

`Thank you.´ Stiles said once his breathing settled, once the pain of stiff-limbs eased allowing Stiles to move with only a dull-ache insulting him as he moved the parts of his body that had been stretched until the bones had snapped and slipped out of place.

 

`Don’t mention it.´ Derek said as he moved to rub the ache in the muscles and skin away, `Stiles, you need to tell me if you need help, when you need it.´

 

`Maybe I shouldn’t be here.´ Stiles hissed as he struggled to sit up, Derek felt like giving the back of Stiles’ head a hard slap, `I should have stayed in the hospital, I can’t ask you to help me out of bed and to help me get dressed.´

 

`Stop that.´ Derek barked at Stiles who jumped just a little at the loudness, `You’re where you belong. So what if you need help getting in and out of bed? So what if you need help getting undressed and dressed? ´ Derek walked over to the dresser that held the sweatpants and other things that his mother felt did not need much care and attention, `You would help me if I needed it, would you not.´ Derek doesn’t need to see Stiles to know he is outraged by even the thought that Derek would doubt the goodness of his heart, he needs not to see the younger teen to know that Stiles is nodding.

 

`We will help each other because that is what brother’s do.´ Derek says as he walks back over to the bed.

 

**~*~**

 

Talia sat down behind the old desk that had been passed down the family for longer than anyone could accurately pin-point the first step in its tale, the wood used to create the desk seemed to turn darker with each passing year. Like so many other tables and chairs in the house this too held scratches and claw marks as well as tiny bite marks. Talia loved the desk; it was her favorite thing in the Hale House Library. Sitting behind the fine piece of craftsmanship and woodwork always made her mind more focused and her determination more solid, there for she had taken a seat behind the desk before calling Mrs. Greenberg a psychiatrist specialized in children and abuse cases.

 

After finishing the call with Mrs. Greenberg who was pleasantly willing to listen to Talia’s worries and fears, Talia was left feeling somewhat less anxious about the whole sending Stiles off three times a week to talk to a stranger for an hour each time, the good lady had however shown a willingness to listen to Talia without judgment and had expressed how she was determined to aide Stiles in his recovery; Mrs. Greenberg was even willing to allow both Talia and Thomas to come for a talk with her if they ever felt like Stiles was becoming a bit too much to handle.

 

Talia walked over to the window overlooking a part of the garden that was devoted to the younger members of the pack, there were swings and a large sandbox and a lot of room to just run around without having to worry about flowerbeds.

 

It had been the past few days watching Stiles that had made Talia so very determined to find the right person to save Stiles from himself, it was watching the struggle Stiles was going through within his head that had her harassing the psychiatrist in the early hours of the day. It was painful to watch and listen to Stiles when he swayed back and forth between denying the part the man who had created him had in the damages done to his lithe body, it was hard to listen to Stiles refusing to believe in the death of Alec Stilinski; it hurt to see how much Stiles believed in the thought that his father had simply abandoned him.

 

Abandoning the chair which was by no means as old as the desk itself, not that old chair was hidden away upstairs in her mother’s bedchamber as Talia had been unable to withstand the chair and the aches it caused, Talia found herself watching three of her children running around in the guarding with their cousins near the old treehouse she and her brother’s had played in. Stiles was understandably not running around with the others instead he was seated near a tree that was old and barely alive, she would have felt more at ease by the sight if he had a book to keep his focus on but Stiles sat there with a distant look in his eyes. He sat there his gaze unfocused and empty as he stared into nothing.

 

Talia had hoped bringing Stiles home would have healed some of the damage done, but seeing Stiles sitting there like a doll left alone for too long, opened her eyes to the reality that Stiles couldn’t just be healed by the love and affection she had Thomas felt towards the human boy. There was much to do before they had the boy back, much to be healed before the child that had made Thomas more affectionate towards his born-son and had made Talia feel like she had somehow misplaced a second-son.

 

Talia not spend months heavy with the child sitting under the tree, she had not felt him move around and kick her bladder for months, she had not spent hours in labor with her mate telling her to breathe and push; Talia had not given birth to Stiles and held him close to her chest all messy and pink, she had not given him his first feeding through her heavy breasts, and yet even without all those experiences she had shared with all three of Stiles siblings he felt like hers and Thomas’.  

 

The soft knock against the desk startled Talia out of her thoughts, but there wasn’t anything threatening about the knock and she recognized the scent of the man who had entered the room freely and without invite. Then again she would never begrudge Alan Deaton for the freedoms he took, or send him away.

 

Talia turned around to face the emissary that had grown into a dear friend, with him Talia shared her opinions and thoughts as openly as she did with her mate.

 

`Alan.´ Talia greeted as she walked away from the window, `Here to question my sanity again?´ As freely as she spoke to Alan he did so with her, he had a freedom most emissary’s did not hold and it gave him a fearlessness that she might have admired if he had not been the emissary of the Hale pack. If Laura became the Alpha after her, then perhaps Alan could continue this freedom of thought and tongue but if Peter became the next-Alpha then that trait of free-speech and thought would become a dangerous thing, for Peter was not she nor was he Laura; Peter would desire obedience from everyone even his mate, it was something that would demand him to break the freedom Talia had granted Alan.

 

`How is he doing?´ Alan asked as he settled in one of the armchairs and she took the seat next to him, his dark eyes all-knowing and wise but there was sympathy there that had only once been present; it was on the night she became the Alpha against her will.

 

`He is here.´ Talia answered with a shortness that did sound harsh even to her own ears. She was aware that Alan had not agreed with her decision to bring Stiles into the pack without giving him the bite, she knew he worried about the safety of their pack and the ability of this hurt child to keep their secret safe.

 

`I did see as much. But _how_ is he? ´

 

Talia frowned at the question, giving it some thought before speaking, `He is as we feared shattered both in mind, body and spirit. I cannot help but wonder if we are able to mend him.´

 

Dusting off a few feline hairs of the ginger-kind from the sleeve of his shirt, Alan spoke with a voice strangely cautious, `Perhaps mending him isn’t possible.´ Talia glared at her friend who ignored the harshness of her gaze, `Perhaps you should focus on simply keeping the cracks from growing.´

 

`You think him weak.´ Talia snapped at Alan who dared to insult her child

 

`Fragile.´ Alan says as if correcting her.

 

`Same thing.´ Talia growls eyes flashing crimson, warning the emissary to think before speaking if he intends to keep bad-mouthing Stiles.

 

`Dear Talia, I wish you could look past your affections for the boy.´ Alan said with a sigh, shaking his head much like a disappointed parent would.

 

`If you sat with him, then I am sure you could see how special he is.´ Talia said, defending both Stiles and her love for him. As soon as the words had escaped she wished the day would never come when Stiles and Alan would sit together, if Stiles’ mind was out of sorts Alan might bend him into his will while if Stiles mind was at its peak then the two would converse losing sight of time; Alan would surely attempt to gain the boy as an apprentice at the animal clinic and the thought of her son working with Alan cleaning animal droppings for almost nothing did not sit well with her protective nature.

 

`From all that I have heard about the boy before and after all the trials he has gone through, I think the boy will be a heavy weight for you and Thomas to endure, as well as your pack.´ Talia can’t help the enraged growl that escapes her, and when Alan continues to speak her patience crumbles, `Are you sure you aren’t allowing Thomas’ affection inflict your judgment in this matter? I know he is very fond of the boy…´

 

`Of course he is. And so am I! ´ Talia barks at the emissary who doesn’t even flinch at her burst of anger, he doesn’t move an inch while she jumps out of her seat with claws out and her features ever so slightly less human, `He feels like _mine_ , he feels as much mine as Laura and Derek and Cora do.´ she flashed her Alpha eyes at the man still seatedin the armchair, `Would you say I am simply fond of Derek, Laura and Cora? ´

 

Alan makes a quick apology admitting he had not known Talia had such strong feelings for the human boy. Talia can tell his mind is working on the information she had given. Alan quickly scolds his expression into something less revealing reaches down to the floor where a small wooden box had been sitting since he had taken a seat in the chair, `I brought something for the boy.´

 

`Stiles. Call him Stiles.´ Talia says sharply, she might not want to see Alan bleed out on the floor at this moment but she will demand him speak with an air of respect when it came to her newest child.

 

`Forgive me.´ Alan quickly says while standing up, presenting Talia with the simple wooden box, `I brought some ointments to help aid the healing of Stiles.´ Talia takes the small box and opens it, curious to see if it isn’t all just a trick, `The purple jar holds and ointment I would recommend to be used daily, it should be massaged into skin to mend the damage done to it as well as to ease the tightness that badly scared skin may suffer from.´ The purple jar was the size of a medium-sized jam-jar, next to it was a small brown bottle, `To help calm young Stiles nerves and to assure peaceful sleep, I would recommend one tee-spoon of the liquid an hour before bed; if he is highly-anxious one and a half might be needed.´ Talia listened to the advice given although the same information was found on a note bound to the items in the box, `Now the green-bottle should be used only when he is terribly troubled or upset, but you need to inject it.´ Alan pulled out small plastic bag full of small syringes from his bag which he always carried around.

 

The prospect of injecting Stiles was not a pleasing one to Talia, but she listened carefully to the guidance Alan gave her, he showed her how to prepare the syringes explained the way to increase and decrease the amount that would be given according to Stiles weight and height, he explained even the signs and what to do it there was an overdose.

 

`Trying to buy my forgiveness?´ Talia asks as she accepted the gift Alan had given her and Stiles, her words causes Alan to laugh and there is a twinkle in his eyes before he finally says, `Of course, have I not insulted your child Alpha?´

 

`That you did.´ Talia says with a smile, the hostility lost and forgiveness granted.

 

**~*~**

 

The garage was still cold, the air almost crisp, but as the morning drew into day the space would grow warm, but for now the air gave Thomas the perfect conditions to work on his gift to his youngest son. The lights flickered on, one by one until there was enough light to reveal every detail of the garage Thomas owned he removed the large tarp that covered the vehicle he had bought week ago. The pale-blue Jeep needed a great deal of work, but there had been something about that Jeep that had been doomed to become nothing more than scrap-metal that made Thomas think of Stiles driving around in a the pale-blue Jeep. There was enough time before Stiles would get his driver’s license so time was not against Thomas.

 

Thomas loved working on the vehicle because it was for his son; he never lost his calm with the car that had been left to survive the elements. Thomas had been the one to buy Laura her Camaro and Derek would be getting his own Camaro within a few months, unlike Laura’s car Derek’s wasn’t straight out of the factory but a used one which Thomas had worked on to make it fit his first-born son; Derek had voiced his desire to have a similar car to his sister, although Derek had wanted Laura’s car he had also wished it to be a bit different and so Thomas bought a second-hand Camaro and spent hours working on it to make it entirely Derek’s.

 

The black Camaro that was destined to become Derek’s had been standing in the garage near Stiles Jeep from the day Thomas and Rick pushed and pulled the broken vehicle into the garage, at times Thomas would talk to the two cars while working on the battered vehicle telling the Camaro to keep an eye on Jeep because it seemed a bit like a trouble-maker, while also telling the Jeep not to be jealous of the fine appearance of the Camaro because Thomas would make the Jeep look all pretty and nice.

 

Thomas glanced at the gaping hole where the engine should have been, but the original engine had been a rusty mess that even crumbled a little as it had been removed from the shell of the Jeep. Thomas ran his hand over the side of the car smiling as he imagined teaching Stiles to drive in the Jeep which would soon get a new coating of pale-blue paint. Richard had suggested red or black as the color for the Jeep but Thomas’ felt like a change in color would break the charm of the vehicle and so he had chased for the same shade of blue the vehicle had been blessed with in the factory that had created it years and years ago.  

 

`She’s coming along nicely don’t you think? ´ Richard said as he walked into the garage his brother-in-law owned.

 

Thomas just gave a short nod before walking over to the engine that had been delivered a few days ago, Thomas wasn’t too bothered to point out that he believed the car to be a he and not a she, and patted it gently like a pet he was fond of, `Stiles will love it, I know he will.´ Richard agrees with Thomas who begins to remove his leather jacket and as he does he looks over at his brother-in-law.

 

`So, here to help or just to watch me work?´ Thomas asks as Richard knowing very well that Richard was there to help him get Stiles gift ready, still Richard Hale answers with a smirk, `To help, it’s for my nephew right?´

 

 


	44. Not another Nightmare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The nightmare had never felt right to him; it had never felt like just another bad-dream in a long line of nightmares that had him waking-up screaming or crying or both. Still Stiles preferred to ignore the little voice in his head telling him to face the facts but what those facts were eluded him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a great big sorry from me to you all. Not only because it took me forever to get to this chapter and because of the chapter.

 

Stiles was incredibly nervous as he sat waiting to have his fourteenth session with Dr. Greenberg, he was always nervous when going to see his now ninth shrink. His nerves always started to act-up when he stepped inside the waiting room that had three sets of very impressive looking orchids and the boring music that was meant to sooth anxious minds, it wasn’t because Dr. Greenberg was mean to him or unpleasant in anyway and unlike most of his previous shrinks she did not talk to him like an idiot. The reason for his ever growing anxiety was the knowledge that he _had_ to talk about his life before Beacon Hills and the one that came after he’d moved to said place that had rendered his family into nothing; talking about it all always left Stiles feeling more confused and in doubt. There were days when a session with Dr. Greenberg left him feeling incredibly angry with and at everything, and then there were those sessions that had to be cut-short because Stiles would break-down in tears unable to calm down without Talia or Thomas there to hold him.

 

But today there was something strange in the air, something that had Stiles sitting as close as possible to Talia on the small sofa that was a horrible bright-yellow color. There wasn’t a receptionist in the small room, just the comfortable but ugly sofa, there was always tea and cookies ready and waiting as well as several cans of sodas, there were graphic novels and magazines’ the newest issue always on the small coffee table while the older ones found a home in the bookshelf by the door leading somewhere unknown to Stiles.

 

Talia wrapped her arm around his shoulder and pulled him in close as he started twitching, and soon his nerves settled, `You need to calm down, darling boy.´ Talia said gently as she kissed the side of his head that had just enough hair to allow it to be called hair.  

 

The door to the room where Stiles would soon be in opened suddenly and a girl with strawberry-blond hair came walking out of the room, head held high like she was the queen of the world. The girl glanced at Stiles like he was something beneath her and the look had Talia growling and tightening her hold of Stiles, one hand sheltering him from the harsh gaze of the girl.

 

When the girl was out of the building, Talia looked down at Stiles her hand stroking his cheek like he was something precious, `Ignore her. She is the one beneath you because she’s only got outer beauty while you’ve got both.´then Talia kissed the most visible scar on his face, a scar that shouldn’t have been so visible but an infection had made an otherwise skillfully done operation to minimalize the scarring on his face less than successful as the small scar lay visible beneath his left eye, `You are my beautiful baby-boy and she is just a uptight-self-absorbed-girl.´

 

`I’m n-n-not b-b-beautiful.´ Stiles whispered while a blush spread over his cheeks.

 

`Tsk, Stiles, now don’t you know better than to argue with an Alpha?´ Talia asked with a playful voice before letting out a little growl that sounding like a mother growling at her little pups while enjoying their little nips and bites. When Stiles gave a short nod, she began to smile at him proudly even though Stiles was sure she knew he didn’t believe that he was beautiful.

 

`Stiles I’m ready for you.´ Dr. Greenberg’s voice startled Stiles but Talia seemed relaxed and so his heartbeat settled slightly. Talia stood up and helped Stiles up and off of the sofa, she than did something that she had never done before and which had Stiles grasping onto her wrist.

 

 `I’ll be waiting in the car, just outside.´ Talia told him, voice gentle and soft, but the words had Stiles heart jumping up into his throat.

 

`Wait? What? ´ Stiles grabbed on to Talia’s wrist, trying to keep her from leaving him like everyone else did, `W-w-why? ´

 

`Because I think you need some privacy, dear.´ Talia said, stroking Stiles cheeks gently, `I’ll be right outside. I’ll sit on the bench across the street with my headphones on, waiting for you. You can see me through the window.´ then with a kiss and a soft voice that held more of a promise in them than the words she actually spoke, `I’m not abandoning you Stiles.´

 

`S-s-stay.´ Stiles whimpered, but all she did was kiss his forehead and promise she would be waiting for him, her hand slowly working to unfasten Stiles hold of her, `Now be a good boy for me, and go inside. I’ll be waiting outside and then we can go and get some curly-fries with Derek and Thomas.´

 

Stiles didn’t want to go with Dr. Greenberg, but he did because Talia told him too, he did it because he wanted to a good boy and not the bad one that had made his dad hate him and leave him.

 

The room was in appearance more like a living-room than a room where you were expected to bare your soul to someone who got paid to listen to your sorrows and fears while keeping their own emotions in check. Unlike the eight offices before this one there wasn’t a large or small desk to remind you where you were, and the aquarium that had seemed like a standard issue for every office dealing with kids. The room had several small areas you could choose from to sit in and talk about your issues, each chair and sofa comfortable. There was one corner that particularly devoted for kids, there was a small bright yellow table and two small colorful chairs there were toys in a large colorful box.

 

Stiles walked immediately over to the window to watch Talia make her way over to the bench across the street, he watched her nervously taking her seat on the old bench. She slipped the headphones on before she looked up and wave at him.

 

`Stiles, would you please take a seat.´ Dr. Greenberg said while watching Stiles with that almost kind look in her eyes. Stiles glanced at his shrink who was moving slowly towards the seating area Stiles usually preferred to take, but she was wrong today as he sat down in one of the two armchairs by the window, eyes locked on Talia Hale who was now reading a magazine which turned out to be Homes and Gardens; it was actually Abigail’s magazine and Stiles could almost imagine the frustration Abigail would feel when she wouldn’t find it.

 

Dr. Greenberg changed seats and sat down across from Stiles, opening her notebook and uncapping the expensive looking pen she seemed to care for a great-deal and Stiles suspected it was a graduation gift, `So, how are you feeling today?´ Dr. Greenberg asked per usual, glancing from Stiles over to Talia Hale.

 

`Fine.´ Stiles answered like he always did, Stiles was slowly beginning to believe what Laura had told him; you weren’t actually fine if you said the word _fine_ , it was just something you said to make other people happy while you were actually dying inside.

 

`Have you been following eating well, I know we haven’t talked about this for a while? ´ another familiar question and he gave a nod before telling her they’d been to see the doctors yesterday, `Really? And how was it? ´

 

`I’ve g-g-gained a p-p-pound. Which isn’t strange considering how Abigail seems like she’s always _there_ with a sandwich or cookies.´ Stiles sighed, he loved Abigail but sometimes the way she kept feeding him food made him feel like a pig.

 

`She does it out of love.´ Dr. Greenberg says, `She’s like my grandmother was, showing her love in the shape of treats.´ A fond smile crossed her face before she turned her attention to the notebook on her lap, `But I should congratulate you both on your weight-gain.´ Stiles gave a short nod and told her how Abigail had baked a chocolate cake at the news of him gaining a pound, it made a little laughter escape her one which she apologized for quickly.

 

`How do you feel about it? About gaining the pound? ´ Dr. Greenberg asked tilting her head slightly. Stiles thought about the question for a moment before confessing how he’d almost had a panic attack at the news of his weight gain, and before she could ask him why he’d had such a reaction he sighed, `It f-felt w-w-wr-wrong, just wr-wrong. I d-d-don’t w-w-want t-t-to talk a-a-about it, o-okay? ´

 

`Okay.´ Dr. Greenberg said there’s disappointment there she tries to hide from him by going back to scribbling away in her notebook, and while she wrote she asked one of the usual questions, `So, Stiles, is there anything you’d like to talk about today? ´ Stiles shook his head and turned his attention back to the window, Talia looked perfectly comfortable where she was seated unlike him.

 

`Are you still convinced that your father is alive?´ another question that was either at the beginning or at the end of their session and it had Stiles asking, `W-w-why a-a-are you so s-s-sure m-m-my dad is d-d-dead?´ The question directed at Dr. Greenberg wasn’t a new one and it made her chuckle slightly before shrugging her broad shoulders; she was a rather masculine looking woman unlike the other women in Stiles’ life, and her ginger hair was short enough to truly make the masculine features to stand-out.

 

`I believe it because everyone has told me he’s dead.´ the freckled woman said, `His death and funeral were in the paper.´

 

Their conversations about his fathers supposed death had never gone this far, usually Dr. Greenberg simply brushed his question aside and they’d move towards another topic. It made Stiles uncomfortable that they had come this far so suddenly, but still he decided to defend his point of view, `M-m-my dad w-w-would never h-h-hang himself.´

 

`Why are you so sure about that? ´ Dr. Greenberg asked before taking her own glance over at the window.

 

`B-b-because he **wouldn’t**!´ Stiles snapped at her, grabbing a piece of paper with bright swirls and circles drawn with crayons, and he repeated his stubborn statement a few more times before starting pull the sheet of paper into different sized pieces.

 

`Have you been to his grave at all since the first-time? ´ the question had Stiles feeling like stabbing the expensive pen into the eye of the green-eyed woman. With gritted teeth he answered the question, `No. W-w-why would I? H-h-he’s not t-t-th-there.´

 

Dr. Greenberg scribbled away and Stiles sighed out, `I’ve a-a-a-asked the Hale’s if I c-c-could go and see m-m-my m-m-mother.´ giving him a look of surprise the woman dressed in a green dress asked Stiles how that had gone for him, `T-t-they understood t-t-th-that I’d w-w-want to visit her, c-con-con-considering it’s her b-b-birthday in a couple of w-w-weeks. Talia even suggested we could visit Melissa and Scott while we were there. I’m not sure I want to see them, Scott and I aren’t friends anymore so what’s the point.´

 

`I’m sure Melissa would be happy to see you, especially considering how you’re looking so much better now than what you did when she saw you last. It would do her good to see you doing so well.´ Dr. Greenberg was making sense but to Stiles it still felt like seeing the McCall’s would be too painful for him, and Stiles wasn’t sure he could handle it without having another break-down, `Have you continued talking with her on the phone?´

 

`Yes.´ Stiles answers swallowing nervously, afraid where this conversation was leading too, `Talia m-m-makes m-me c-c-call them once a w-w-week.´

 

`How does it make you feel? Have you talked at all with Scott? I know you hadn’t done it the last time we had thisconversation.´ She’s smiling a sympathetic smile but Stiles doesn’t buy it, still he answers her question as best he can, `Sometimes a-a-angry, sometimes n-n-nervous and t-t-then there a-a-are t-t-times I just f-f-feel like c-cr-crawling into bed and n-n-never l-le-leaving it. And no, S-S-Scott and I d-d-don’t t-t-talk, **_he_** d-d-doesn’t want t-t-too.´

 

His eyes begin to sting and he gets angry at himself, because he will not cry over Scott McCall, ever.

 

`Why do you feel angry? ´ Stiles can’t help but roll his eyes at the stupid question.

 

`I’m a-a-angry b-b-because I don’t w-w-want to t-t-talk to them. I’m a-a-angry b-b-because w-when I c-c-all and h-h-hear Mel’s v-v-voice it r-r-re-reminds me of a time w-when I h-h-had my mum and my dad and Paige. I’m a-a-angry b-b-because she sounds s-s-so sad and w-w-worried. I’m a-a-a-angry b-b-because S-S-S-Scott doesn’t w-w-want to t-t-talk to m-m-me.´ Stiles clenches his hand into an angry little fist before continuing on to why he was nervous to call the McCall House expressing how he worried about Scott answering and then dropping the phone in a hurry to get his mother which had indeed happened a few times, or how he’s nervous because of the fear that Melissa will not want to talk to him or that she would tell him to stop calling. He tells the poor woman who has to listen to him because she gets paid to do it why he wants to crawl up into his bed and just cry until he’s dead, he tells her how miserable he feels when Melissa tries to get Scott on the phone but he’s suddenly gone missing or he’s too caught up playing with his friend Isaac to even shout out a hi to Stiles, he tells her how talking to Melissa reminds him of days spent with her and Scott; and how she always brings up his dad and mum as well as Paige and the good-old-days.

 

When Stiles is finished talking about his feelings, he dries the stupid tears that had escaped him, and growls out, `A-a-and don’t y-y-you t-t-try and s-s-sell me s-s-some b-b-bullshit about f-f-fr-friendships like S-S-Scott’s and m-m-mine never r-r-really ending t-t-that with t-t-time we will f-f-find our way b-b-b-back.´

 

Dr. Greenberg scribbles down the information Stiles had given, the silence useful in calming down Stiles who would have without it had a slight mental-break-down.

 

` You wouldn’t be alone if you did go and visit Melissa.´ she says once she had finished writing what nonsenseStiles had said and her mind came up with, she turned her attention back to Stiles with eyes clever and all seeing, `You’d have Talia there as well as Thomas, and probably Derek.´ then with a little huff of a laughter she says, `It might turn into a family-trip if anything you’ve told me about the Hale’s is true.´ Stiles couldn’t help but laugh at the image of the Hale’s driving down roads and pausing at various stops for lunch, and then the look on Melissa’s face as they all tried to settle in her small living-room.

 

`I’ll t-t-th-think about it.´ Stiles finally said, not making any promises about going to see Melissa but also not saying a direct no to it. His answer seemed to please Dr. Greenberg enough to change the subject.

 

`Any nightmares?´ the usual question didn’t shock him one bit, it was always a part of their sessions, Stiles hated the question none the less because of course there were nightmares and so he gave a nod and sank deeper into the seat.

 

`Tell me about them.´ Dr. Greenberg said, her pen scribbling away while her eyes were locked on him.

 

`Fine.´ Stiles grumbles, while tying a few thin strips of paper he’d shredded from the piece of paper he’d found and tied them together, he starts telling about the nightmare that had been taunting him for nearly a week, `T-t-the dream s-s-st-starts with me coming h-h-home, don’t a-a-ask from where b-b-because I don’t k-k-know, then my dad’s t-t-th-there and he’s a-a-angry and I k-k-know I’m in t-t-tr-trouble just from the w-w-way he l-l-looks at me. I s-s-start to a-a-apologize, but he’s so m-m-mad that he punches me.´

 

The beginning of the dream was rather familiar, because it had happened in his more than once.

 

Stiles doesn’t look up at Greenberg as he continues to describe how his dad in the dream kept hitting him over and over again, and how Stiles tried to get away from him only to end up in his bedroom with his dad unbuckling his belt and calling him a filthy whore. Stiles tells Greenberg about how his dad told him to undress, and how he’d done it because he was afraid his dad was going to hurt him even worse than what a beating with the belt alone would be. When he was butt-naked his dad started beating him with his belt while cursing him all the while.

 

`H-h-he said _he_ w-w-w-ished I was d-d-d-dead, b-b-because he d-d-didn’t want a f-f-faggot-whore as his s-s-s-son. T-t-t-then w-w-when he stopped b-b-be-beating m-me with the b-b-belt, he a-a-asked me if I l-l-liked s-s-sucking cock or if I p-p-pr-pr-preferred being f-f-fucked like a b-b-bitch.´ Stiles feels his entire body start to shake because he can almost feel the pain and shame he felt in the dream.

 

Greenberg stops writing and looks at him for a minute before asking, `D-d-did you a-a-a-answer him? ´

 

Stiles nods before telling her how the dream-Stiles had told dream-dad that he’d never sucked anyone’s cock and that’s when dream-dad really got violent, calling Stiles a liar while kicking and beating him with the belt. When his father couldn’t continue up with the beating he had left the now barely conscious dream-Stiles who had but a moment ago stopped begging his daddy to stop hurting him.

 

Dream-Stiles staid unmoving on the floor, until he ended up being sick all over the nice carpet, the smell making him sick all over again; there was blood in the sick which even dream-Stiles knew wasn’t a good thing and so he began to try and get up but he was too dizzy and there was a strange ache in his foot and so dream-Stiles began to crawl.

 

`Did you get out of the room?´ Dr. Greenberg asked, her pen moving swiftly over the pages of her notebook, but her eyes were locked with Stiles, and he answered with trembling voice, `Yeah. It t-t-took t-t-th-three or was it f-f-four tries. And t-t-then there was the l-l-long c-c-cr-crawl through the h-h-hall and the t-t-tumble down the s-ss-st-stairs.´ Stiles continues messing around with the pieces of paper in his lap.

 

`What happened after that? ´ Dr. Greenberg asked.

 

`D-d-dream-me w-w-wanted to get out of the h-h-house, away from d-d-dream-dad.´ Stiles said voice that was just a little bit lower than before, `And t-t-th-then he was t-th-there, t-t-t-taunting me, t-t-telling me I could do it. C-c-ch-cheering me on with this h-h-horrible mean v-v-voice.´ the tears started to fall as Stiles recalled the cruelty behind the words of dream-dad, Stiles told Dr. Greenberg about the beating that started then, the fight dream-Stiles went through trying to stay away from the basement because there was something inside him that told him it would become so much worse down there.

 

`All d-d-dream-Stiles h-had to do when he g-g-got to the d-d-door was to open it, b-b-but d-d-dream-dad caught h-h-him and s-s-st-started t-t-trying to p-p-pull d-d-dream-Stiles off of the d-d-door, b-b-but he c-c-couldn’t b-b-because d-d-dream-Stiles held on t-t-tightly,´ the emotions that was over him, the fear dream-Stiles had felt had Stiles sobbing, but he continued telling how dream-dad pulled at dream-Stiles and hit him before finally grabbing the frying-pan and hitting it over Stiles arm until Stiles  hold broke, after that he was dumped down the stairs and into the basement.

 

`What happened then? ´ Dr. Greenberg asked, handing Stiles tissues which he used before continuing, `Where you conscious? ´ her voice was strangely tight.

 

`Yes.´ Stiles answered after blowing his nose. He tells about how dream-Stiles tried to crawl away from his dream-dad who was back to talking about how Stiles was a slut, and how dream-Stiles just wanted to get a dick up his ass every night, then when his dream-dad tries to grab dream-Stiles by the throat dream-Stiles starts kicking which was a horrible mistake because his dad grabs the broom that Stiles used to clean the basement floor with and starts beating the ever living life out of Stiles with until dream-Stiles falls unconscious.

 

`Did you wake-up then?´ Dr. Greenberg asked, tilting her head slightly, there was something almost resembling want in her voice, like she wished Stiles hadn’t dreamt of anymore hardships.

 

Stiles shakes his head before speaking, `No.´

 

When dream-Stiles opened his eyes for the second-time he found himself hurting real bad, his ass was throbbing, and he was on his stomach on the rough cement floor and dream-dad was nowhere in sight. Dream-Stiles could hear the TV-blaring upstairs; he could hear his dad cursing. Dream-Stiles stayed still and unmoving just listening to the sounds upstairs.

 

`Why didn’t you try to escape? ´ Dr. Greenberg asked, Stiles answered quickly.

 

` I t-t-th-think d-d-dream-Stiles thought if h-h-he waited until d-d-dream-dad p-p-passed out, that m-m-maybe then he c—c-could get upstairs i-i-if d-d-dream-dad hadn’t l-l-locked the d-door to the basement.´ Dr. Greenberg gave a short nod before saying, `That was very good thinking on your part. Who would you have called? ´

 

Stiles looks down at the used tissues in his hands, `I t-t-th-hink, I think i-i-f I had b-b-been him I w-w-would have c-c-called the Hale’s. ´

 

`Really? Why? ´ Dr. Greenberg asked, placing her hands on the notebook as if to hide something.

 

Stiles shrugged his shoulders before answering, `D-d-don’t kk-kn-know.´

 

`You do know. So try again.´

 

Stiles sighed before answering, `B-b-because they w-w-would come.´

 

`You trust them.´ Dr. Greenberg says with a pleased smile, and Stiles nods, `That’s good. Everyone needs someone they can trust.´

 

`Yeah.´ Stiles says, but then he sighs out, `B-b-but d-d-dream-Stiles didn’t g-g-get a chance to c-c-call f-f-for h-h-help b-b-because when he t-t-tr-tried to c-cr-crawl up the s-stairs d-d-dream-dad was suddenly t-t-th-there.´ Stiles tells Dr. Greenberg how his dream-dad grabbed dream-Stiles by his hair and dragged dream-Stiles back down into the basement. Stiles tells her how dream-dad started hitting dream-Stiles again and again until dream-Stiles stopped begging for mercy and just told dream-dad was sorry and agreeing with everything dream-dad said until all the words became slurred and then everything went dark.

 

Stiles stops crying because something isn’t right, because suddenly he remembers something that wasn’t part of the dream, he remembers.

 

`Stiles? ´ Dr. Greenberg calls out to him, but she sounds rather distant.

 

Stiles remembers waking up on the cold ground of the basement of the ugly little house his dad had bought. His ass felt like it had done after being raped, and the feeling had made him sick which had caused him even more pain as he emptied his stomach on the cement-floor, every movement he made caused his body to feel like an invisible fist or foot was continuing the beating his father had started. He’d felt so disgusting and sick, he’d given himself a moment to just cry for a minute or two before starting to crawl away from the sick and towards the stairs, whimpering and sobbing as he dragged his pained body forward.  

 

Stiles had crawled over to the stairs, because he couldn’t hear anything not even the TV. He’d crawled with a single thought in his mind, and that was to get away from his dad because he couldn’t handle the abuse anymore. Stiles had started to cry out of sheer joy over the relief he felt when he’d reached the top of the stairs, and when the door opened for him he almost died out pure shock.  

 

Stiles hadn’t heard his dad coming, all Stiles knows is that one minute he was crawling across the cold floor and the next he was tossed back downstairs into the basement, Stiles could remember the terrifying fear he felt when his body came into contact with the rough floor. Stiles could remember how every instinct in him wanted him to run, to escape his father even when there was nowhere to run. Stiles remembers how he’d begged his dad to stop hurting him, how he promised to be good how he had cried and promised that he would be a better son, Stiles remembers his father’s answer to his cries and his desperate promises; it was several kicks in the face.

 

`Stiles, I need you to breathe for me.´ Dr. Greenberg’s voice calls out to him, but Stiles can’t seem to get out of his head and the memories that have suddenly taken control of him, `Please, Stiles, you are safe. Try and breathe with me.´ the voice is annoying and right there in his ear and Stiles wants it to stop but he also wants the memories to stop but instead his memories grow clearer and more vivid while the voice becomes unclear.

 

Stiles remembers his dad grabbing a fistful of his hair before dragging him across the rough floor that scraps his naked skin till it bleeds, until his dad just drops him like he’s nothing. Stiles doesn’t move, doesn’t dare too, and doesn’t want to get into more trouble. He stays still, coughs out a few of his teeth, which has him crying. The taste of blood in his mouth his so sickeningly thick that it made him sick once more which had his dad who had been digging for a piece of rope.

 

`Filthy little piece of shit!´ his dad yells when he hears Stiles throwing-up, when he smells the sick, he rushes over towards Stiles and grabs a fist-full of Stiles’ hair and shoves his face into the bloody mess Stiles had managed to create on the floor, `LICK IT UP BEFORE I GET SICK!´

 

Stiles didn’t want too, but his dad keeps screaming at him and shoving his face into the sick, and he’s afraid of what his dad would do if he didn’t obey and so he starts to try and lick up his own sick, but the result is him being even more violently sick.

 

`TALIA!´ Stiles screams, he screams over and over because things are getting worse and worse in his head, he screams again and again for Talia until he feels the familiar arms around him, and hears the familiar voice of the Alpha screaming his name and then calling it out like she was afraid so very afraid. Stiles still gets to remember how his dad tied had him dangling down from the ceiling of the basement while beating him with a fucking broom.

 

 


	45. Son

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Talia had not been able to control her outburst of anger; she stared down at Stiles who looked so small and afraid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No happy times yet… sorry.

 

Watching Stiles struggle with his memories was something incredibly painful because Talia Hale was supposed to be the Alpha, her job was to care and protect her pack; she was now the closest thing to a mother Stiles had, her heart ached with the knowledge that she couldn’t take away the pain and confusion her youngest son was experiencing. Talia could only hold Stiles when he cried if he allowed her too, Talia could only make sure Stiles didn’t hurt himself when fits of rage had him screaming and throwing things; she could only keep him safe from himself but not ease the pain inside of him. Talia could only keep the knives in the draws and to make sure Stiles didn’t use them on his own person, she could only lock-away the pills so he could not empty each bottle into his mouth, she could only trust her mate and her mother and one of her brother’s to help her keep the boy safe.  

 

Talia could only rush to the boy’s room when Stiles started screaming in the middle of the night as if someone was hurting him, she could only wrap her arms around him and hold him tightly while telling Stiles he was safe; repeating the words until the boy snapped out of his nightmare, often Stiles would be exhausted but too afraid of going back to sleep because of the fear that his father would haunt him in his dreams, and so she could only carry or guide him into her bed where she and Thomas could surround the boy and protect him through the night as best they could.

 

The Alpha could only defend Stiles every morning when Martha decided to bitch about Stiles screaming in the middle of the night, or glare at anyone else who dared to bring forth the issue of Stiles nightmares; only she and her beloved mate as well as their now oldest-son would stand-up and defend the boy when someone dared complain about the screaming and crying in the middle of the night. If anyone had the right to complain about Stiles nightmares it was Derek, and he did no such thing.

 

Unable to truly help Stiles left Talia feeling like the worst mother in the history of worst mothers, and that was a feeling she was not well acquainted with and that was why when no one was looking she would sit down in the library or up in her bedroom and just cry; she would weep for her little boy and her inability to save him from what had happened, she would curse her lack of knowledge when it came to the abuse Stiles had suffered from long before the dreadful assault that had nearly reunited Stiles with his sister and his biological-mother. Talia would cry for about ten minutes and then straighten herself out and walk downstairs or walk outside to where she would find her younglings and smile; she was the Alpha, she had to be strong for her pack and her children.

 

Talia sighed as she opened her eyes, the night had been one of the more trying ones, she turned her gaze towards the child sleeping there between her and her mate. Thomas was wrapped protectively around their youngest son who was for now sleeping peacefully; if Talia or Thomas had been humans then both of them would have been covered in bruises and Thomas would be sporting a black eye.

 

Talia looked at the child who had for the past two weeks suffered from the returned memories of the horrors he had experienced in a place he should have been safe in, the child barely spoke these days and when he did it was usually in anger or in self-deprecating fashion.She moved in closer to the child that was hers now but who would one day be mated with someone that Talia would make sure was worthy of her youngest son, Talia wished Stiles and his mate would choose to adopt children for Talia to spoil like a grandmother should and for Thomas to play with like a grandfather should; she could see a far more mature Stiles driving up to the house in a family-friendly-car, and Stiles and his mate would exit the car and soon their little bundles of joy would run around inside the house with all their cousins because it was Sunday dinner and the pack had gathered.

 

Talia took in the scent of her darling boy happy to find him at peace, there was no fear or tears in his fine scent, she leaned in close and kissed the back of Stiles’ head, the scars were barely visible now through the growth of brown hair.

 

Leaving a kiss behind she got out of bed as silently as possible not wanting to wake her mate and their sad-little-boy. She stole away a set of clothes before sneaking into the bathroom devoted to the Alpha-couple she showered quickly and allowing herself a five-minute cry underneath the spray of cold-water her sudden burst of tears came at the memory of the scars that littered the thin body of her boy; she wonder if any man could see them without their stomach churning. By the time she was dressed and making her way downstairs she could smell the delicious scent of coffee, she wasn’t all too surprised to find her mother in the kitchen looking as haggard as she felt.

 

`Morning dear.´ Abigail said while fixing Talia a large cup of coffee which Talia took happily.

 

`Another rough night?´ Abigail asked as she began to crack eggs into one of the large bowls, of course her mother knew that Stiles had woken up four-times screaming and crying while fighting against the evil in his head. Everyone knew.

 

Talia sighed into her coffee before breathing in the delicious scent of the nectar that helped wake-up properly each morning, she was rather useless without her morning coffee Talia could blame her morning-coffee-addiction on her late-father may his soul rest in peace.

 

`Have you considered Deaton’s advice?´ Abigail asked as she continued cracking eggs, Talia couldn’t help the growl escaping her; she didn’t like growling at her mother, but there were just a few things in life that would push her to do such a thing and protecting Stiles was just one of them.

 

`Now, don’t you growl at me baby-girl or I’ll go all mama-wolf on your ass.´ Abigail laughed, before Stiles had slipped through the net and into their family such words would never have slipped through her mother’s lip; Talia couldn’t help the roll of her eyes that followed her mother’s words.

 

`And don’t you give me that Hale-rolling-eyes-thing.´ Abigail said with the strange little sassy tone she had not owned in the past where Stiles had not been in their family, still it was nice to see a bit of Stiles now when the boy was so lots.

 

`How do you do that?´ Talia asked in wonder, because her mother was standing there with her back to Talia sothere was no reason for the older woman to know what she had done; then again Talia herself could sometimes simply sense when one of her own younglings were up to no good.

 

`I’m a mother, I know things, deal with it.´ Abigail answered with an air of laughter in her voice, Talia was about to roll her eyes but caught herself before such a thing could happen.

 

`So, have you thought about it? ´ Abigail asked once more while picking up the whisk before turning around and leaning against the kitchen island. Then pointing the whisk at Talia, she gave her opinion as was expected, `I think we should do it. It would help Talia, I believe it really would help him heal.´

 

`Unless it screws him up even worse! ´ Talia snapped, slamming her hand against the hard surface of the kitchen island, `I’m not going to risk hurting him even more. He’s already fragile. What if removing the memory of what his dad did causes more damage?´ Talia couldn’t even imagine how they would explain the sudden disappearance of the memory of the abuse to Dr. Greenberg, and what about all the people in Beacon Hills that had learned enough about the abuse Stiles had suffered in the hands of Stilinski?

 

`Deaton said it was perfectly safe. Yes, there are small risks…´ Talia snapped at her mother without thinking about the volume she used, `A small risk! He might become catatonic! Stiles might become brain-damaged.´

 

`Just a little.´ Abigail says without actually thinking about what she was saying and she knew the moment the words fell from her thin lips that it was the wrong thing to say, even without Talia jumping up and off of the stool she had been perched on.

 

`THERE IS NO “JUST A LITTLE BRAIN-DAMAGE” THERE IS JUST DAMAGE! ´ Talia roared at her mother, who backed away from her with wide fearful eyes, `He might lose sense of time! Not to mention the ability to recognize faces or talk! ´ Talia advanced on her mother, eyes glowing red, she was ready to kill to protect her little one, `And he might lose all his memories of his mother and sister! ´

 

`I-I d-d-don’t w-w-want t-th-that.´ Stiles stuttered all quiet and fearful from the doorway, causing both Talia and Abigail to turn and stare at him in wonder because how on earth had the boy managed to sneak-up on them. They could smell his tears long before the tears started to fall. Talia rushed over to Stiles and scooped him up into her arms like he wasn’t a teenager but a little boy at the age of five, she peppered him with kisses while hushing him as he kept struggling with his words as he tried to tell Talia that he didn’t want to lose the memories of his mother and sister.

 

`I w-w-will g-get b-b-better I p-p-pr-promise.´ Stiles cried, his breathing growing more and more erratic, `I w-w-will s-s-stop s-s-screaming in the n-n-night, I w-w-will s-stop w-w-wetting the b-bed.´ Talia tightened her hold of Stiles, `I w-will, I p-p-promise, I w-w-will.´

 

`Honey, we’re not going to touch any of your memories baby.´ Talia said while holding Stiles closer, trying to reassure the child he was safe and sound with her that she would never do anything to him by force, while slowly she sank down on the floor with Stiles in her arms, `And don’t you worry about the screaming or the bed-wetting, we’ll manage. You just calm down baby.´ Talia didn’t give a damn about the bed-wetting or the screaming, all she cared about was keeping Stiles safe.

 

`I-I’m sorry.´ Stiles whimpered, but his heart was slowly calming down and his breathing was following Talia’s breathing, `I-I w-w-want to b-be g-g-good.´

 

`Hush now, you have nothing to apologize little one.´ Talia said as she continued doing her best to calm her boy down, `You’ve done nothing wrong baby. You’ve done nothing wrong.´ Talia held Stiles’ head against her chest so that he could hear the truth in her heart as she told him he was a good boy. Kissing the top of the head of the boy she loved like a son, who was as good as her son, she told him how wonderful he was and how much she hated what had happened to him; she confessed she wished she could have gotten him in a less traumatic way, Talia told Stiles how much she loved him and how much Thomas loved him.

 

**~*~**

 

Stiles was unusually quiet, the silence made Thomas incredibly anxious, he knew something had happened that morning while he had been in the shower because when he came downstairs he found Talia sitting on the floor of their kitchen, holding their boy who smelled of tears and emotional turmoil as well as exhaustion and sleep; when Thomas had removed the boy out of his mates arms, he carried the boy into the den and laid him down on the couch, tucking him in before heading into the kitchen ready to demand answers from his mare and guilty looking mother-in-law.

 

He’d asked his mate, as well as his mother-in-law about what had happened, what had suddenly made the kid that had gotten out of bed the without tears in his eyes break-down until exhaustion silenced him. But neither Hale gave him an explanation, both simply said, `It’s been handled.´

 

Thomas hated the silence, he missed the boy that laughed even if he a moment would become sever in nature because of the guilt he felt, he hated knowing that the boy was hurting and he couldn’t do a damn thing to fix it. Thomas tried to focus on Derek and the joy his oldest son was showing at the sight of the sleek black car; but all Thomas could do was watch Stiles watching Derek and the others that had joined Derek’s celebration, there was a strange look in Stiles eyes that made Thomas feel incredibly worried for the mental health of his youngling.

 

The werewolf had always feared that one day he would fail one of his children, that he would fail to protect them and guide them down the right path in life, that Thomas would lose one of his children; when it came to Stiles he had failed miserably, he had been hurt and used, beat and broken, and now there was this constant fear that Stiles would try and end his life.

 

`Let’s have some cake! ´ Abigail yelled suddenly, which had Cora running into the house screaming for cake because she did love cake. Derek looked like someone had stabbed him in the heart because he had mistakenly thought he could take his baby out for a test-drive at once, which simply proved Derek had no idea what sort of a woman his grandmother was; Abigail Hale had a cake for every occasion.

 

They all made their way into the house and gathered into the dining room on the table stood a cakes shaped like a black Camaro, to which Cora commented in her usual loud fashion, `Not pletty. Why not plincess cake? ´

 

`Because it’s Derek’s cake.´ Stiles said, his hand combing through her hair, while sitting with Cora on his lap. Cora pouted a bit more and said, `I till no like it.´ Everyone laughs, except for Stiles who just stares into nothing and for the rest of the day Stiles barely speaks and never laughs.

 

As they enjoy the cake a smell rises from the infant of Peter and Martha before it starts to wail. Thomas barely notices how Martha rises from her seat and walks over to Stiles who is now free from Cora who had hurried off into the kitchen to get Stiles a can of Mountain Dew, and places the squirming child into his arms and with a cold voice ordered him to take care of the problem her child had created in its diaper, and to seal her words she dared to say, `Be useful for once human, earn your feed.´

 

The noise around the table dies at once, and a second later Talia has Martha by the throat and slamming her up against the wall and for a moment she looks absolutely feral and if the moment wasn’t so strange, well then Thomas might have found his mate incredibly arousing; he was not ashamed to admit that he did like it when Talia was a bit less human with him.

 

`YOU DO NOT SPEAK TO MY SON LIKE THAT!´ Thomas jaw dropped open at the wrath behind each word, `YOU DO NOT TELL HIM WHAT TO DO, HE IS AN ALPHA’S SON AND YOU WILL TREAT HIM AS SUCH.´ Thomas can see the shocked look on Stiles incredibly pale face, it is like all the color had been drained out of him, `IF YOU EVEN LOOK AT HIM LIKE HE IS SOMETHING BENEATH YOU, I WILL SEVER YOUR HEAD AND SEND IT BACK TO YOUR FAMILY WITH A NOTE INFORMING THEM OF YOUR CRIMES AGAINST MY SON!´

 

Then his mate dropped the frightened looking Beta and snarled down at her, `You are beneath him. He is above you, remember your rank bitch or I will make you learn.´ then she pointed a clawed finger at the screaming infant and snapped, `Be a mother and take care of your child, or I will reconsider your usefulness in this pack.´

 

Thomas had never seen Martha move as fast as she did then, she rushed over to Stiles and snatched the squirming and smelly bundle of loud noise and rushed upstairs, if she had a tail it would have been between her legs.

 

Talia’s eyes were still glowing red as she rounded on Peter who hadn’t made a move to defend his mate, `I recommend you teach you bitch how to behave, or it won’t be only her head removed.´

 

`I assure you Alpha, I shall.´ Then he hurried after his mate.

 

`Talia, honey, you need to calm down.´ Abigail whispered into Talia’s ear only the werewolves in the room could hear it, `Look at Stiles, he needs you to calm down.´ Thomas turned to look back at Stiles who looked like he was about to have a panic attack, he rushed over towards Stiles kneeled down beside him and held both his hands in his, telling Stiles to focus on him and his breathing. 

 

Stiles said nothing, not a word for the rest of the evening, if he had been distant before he was now completely gone; Richards attempts at talking about all the interesting details of Stiles birth-mother’s family got not even a shrug of shoulders or a nod, Cora’s attempts at getting him to play with her did nothing to bring the boy out of his head.

 

By the end of the evening when everyone had gone to bed, when Thomas and Talia had settled down in their bed Talia reading through another book which was supposedly going to help them with Stiles, Thomas decided they should talk about what needed to be done to bring Stiles back to them; his suggestion was to remove Martha and Peter from the house at once, it wouldn’t help but it would ease Thomas’ nerves.

 

Thomas is just about to demand his mate to lay down her book when a knock catches both their attention, then the familiar but timid voice of Stiles asked if he could come in, to which Talia and Thomas respond to immediately and at the same time, telling their young boy to come in as if by the same tongue and mouth. The stench of nerves and worry sneak into their bedroom before Stiles had even stepped inside the room, when the child does enter he looks so small and afraid that Thomas feels every instinct inside of him demanding him to protect and defend his son.

 

`Honey, do you need the medicine?´ Talia asked hurrying out of bed, while Thomas got out of bed and made his way over to the boy who shook his head, and then with a trembling voice  Stiles asked, `Talia, d-d-did y-y-you m-mean w-w-what y-y-you said? A-a-about m-m-me b-b-being y-y-your s-s-son? ´

 

Talia froze in her tracks and glanced at Thomas for advice but he had none to give, and so she did what a brave Alpha would do, she walked over to Stiles and confessed her even if she feared what would come from it; fear was allowed even in an Alpha, it was simply what you did with that fear that mattered.

 

`Stiles I meant it.´ Talia said as she stroked the pale cheeks of the boy, Thomas could smell the nerves of his mate acting-up, `I know I could never replace your mother, but it doesn’t mean I don’t feel like you are my son.´

 

Then suddenly Stiles is just hugging Talia tightly, asking her if it was okay if he didn’t call her mum, `Of course baby, you just keep calling me Talia.´ Talia said as she kissed the top of his head.

 

`B-but it s-s-sounded n-n-nice.´ Stiles said with a voice barely above a whisper.

 

`What did, honey? ´ Talia asked as they separated slightly from one another.

 

`Y-y-you c-calling me son.´ the little admission made Thomas feel like his heart had suddenly turned to goo, he looked at his mate who was smiling at him with such hope before turning her attention back towards they little boy and with a voice that held a hint of uneasiness she asked Stiles if it was okay for her and Thomas to call him son.

 

`I-I-I’d l-like t-th-that.´ Stiles admitted which had Thomas wrapping his son and mate in his arms.

 

 


	46. Never Forget Who We Are

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Katherine Argent or as she preferred to be called Kate as her mother had used Katherine when she spoke to her, and anything that reminded her of the woman did not sit well with her; she was her father’s daughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about how short this chapter is, I had no idea it was this short until now. But hopefully you can over-look it.

 

 

 

Kate watched her father who was sitting behind his desk like some cliché villain, he was going through a few of the documents Rowling had brought with him earlier that day; Kate disliked Rowling not simply because the man thought very little about female hunters but also because he often called her unstable and insane. Kate watched her father waiting patiently for her father to finish, which really wasn’t something she should be doing considering he had summoned her; he should be paying attention to her and not the papers.

 

Allowing her eyes to wander around the room which never changed in appearance, well except for the picture of her mother that had been removed the moment the unworthy whore had tried to leave them; she’d been lucky that a werewolf had killed her because if Kate had found her then an eternity in Hell would have been a walk in the park compared to what Kate would have done to the woman who had never liked her much.

 

`Now, Kate my dear.´ her father’s voice brings Kate out of her thoughts, ending the delicious fantasies of all the ways she would have made her mother cry for mercy and forgiveness; Kate would have even brought the man her mother had left her dear father for, the man was of course dead because well simply put it Kate couldn’t allow a man who had helped shame her father continue breathing.  

 

`I’ve got a plan to make things right.´ her father said with a smooth cold voice, his gazed completely focused on her. Kate knew that if her father had only summoned her for this little chat about some great-big-plan he had, then this great plan was of the sort Chris would not approve off.

 

`Right for what?´ Kate asks as she rests her hands on her lap, of course Kate knows her father is talking about the Stilinski boy, it is all his father ever thinks about.

 

`Genim Stilinski is not safe with those animals, we must see to it that he is saved from those monsters before they destroy him.´ There was anger behind the words, and Kate enjoyed the passion behind her father’s eyes, those clever eyes held a promise of fun for her; the last-time that look had been shared between her and him, Kate had been sent to New Orleans to eradicate the local pack; he had given her his blessing to do as she wished, and so she had done.

 

`Agreed father.´ Kate says with a smile, she hasn’t killed a monster in weeks and is more than willing to break this dry-spell, `I assume you’ve got a plan.´

 

`Of course.´ Gerald beams at her before smirking, `I need you to sacrifice some of your innocence my daughter, butI assure you if you agree then I give you the right to finish the Hale-pack and take the glory of their destruction.´ Kate likes the sound of that, if she gained the glory of the killing of an entire pack then there would be not a  hunter in the land that would dare speak against her; no man would ever dare to question her decisions ever again, even if she were to take a husband and breed new Argents no one would dare rise against her. With an entire pack gone their deaths formed under her name Kate would easily become the head of the family.

 

`I will do anything you require of me.´ Kate answers, smiling wickedly at her dear-old-father who would surely die soon enough, and he beams at her proudly, `You will be joining me at Beacon Hills High School, I’ve arranged everything. You will be part of the teaching staff, English to be precise, and while you are there I expect you to seduce one of your students.´

 

Kate has always liked her playthings young so the prospect of fucking some kid isn’t too much of a hardship.

 

`That studentwouldn’t happen to be a Hale, now would it father?´ Kate asks as she tilts her head, still smiling like the hungry predator she was; with others she would so all she could to hide this little trait of hers but with Gerald she was free to be the girl he had made her.

 

`Yes. Derek Hale, the boy that has befriended our dear Genim.´ Gerald says as he stands then he stands and as he walks he speaks with a calm voice, his eyes are on her and she likes the attention for it is rather rare now that she is a grown woman, `I want you to get the animal into bed and get him to tell you everything about him and his family, I want you to get a perfect timing for when we might strike those unholy creatures down.´ Kate remembers the name Derek Hale, his face and name had been plastered on several pages of the local paper, for months and months she had looked at the picture of the fine-promise of a man, if she had to bed someone of the Hale’s it might as well be the young boy that wasn’t bad to look at.

 

`I want you, my dear Kate, to take his entire focus until he forgets about all about Genim. Make him forget and abandon his friend.´ her father tells her, before placing his hand on her shoulder, `No harm is to come to Genim, do you understand me Kate – there is to be no harm done to Genim.´

 

`I understand. No need to talk to me like one of your student’s dad.´ Kate said with a bit of sharpness in her voice, she has never liked being talked down too; and never will.

 

`I promise you, daddy, that I won’t hurt our little Genim.´ Kate said with as much promise as she could muster, she felt like she had done when her mother had bought her the fluffy white kitten she had wanted and her mother told her she had to take care of the kitten and not to hurt it; she had kept her promise for about two years until Snowy had cut her across the cheek, when that happened she killed the cat by breaking its neck. Even at the age of eight she’d been clever enough take the cat a few streets away from the house and dump it amongst the trash of the house of an another sad old woman with far too many cats.

 

 `The Hale’s must be destroyed Kate.´ her father’s voice was smooth and cold, and Kate loved it.

 

`Of course.´ Kate says, her nerves tingling with excitement.

 


	47. Lake House

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles feels disgusted when he looks at the mess that is his skin, and when Cora stops running towards him he feels like crying because now even she can see how ugly he is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took me forever to find day 3 and then had to chase down day 6 as well. But it's done and dusted. Please try and enjoy!

At first the idea of spending a week at the Lake House just two weeks before another school year would start, hadn’t seemed like a bad idea even if it meant trusting Talia and Thomas in the kitchen as Abigail had to leave to visit her ailing friend. The lake house wasn’t as large as the Hale House but it was still pleasant enough to house several people at once, Stiles could have had his own room for once but Derek insisted they should share a room. Which was fine by Stiles, sharing a room with Derek would give him a bit more protection against Peter and his mate who was still glaring at him like he was something she wished to have beheaded every time Talia or Thomas weren’t looking.

 

The Lake House was impressive the exterior was something between modern and a hint of rustic here and there, the interior of the house was ruled for the most part of light and dark wood, the walls all whitewashed rough-cut pine planks, the living room was open to the dining room, the floors were for the most part dark with Jacobean wood stain while the ceiling was tinted ash wood. Everything about the house was what some might have called it crisp, clean, and young. Stiles just thought it was all beautiful and more like something right out of a designer magazine. The Lake House was a stark change to the Hale House which was a building of great-age and plenty of dark impressive wood-work, wall-papers and rooms with different feels and more personality.

 

Their first-day at the Lake House was spent indoors as heavy-rains decided to wash over the forest and the lake, but it was still nice as Thomas had a fire going in the fireplace and Laura pulled out all the old board games, there were no TV’s or computers to disturb the stillness only a house where you had to figure out your own way of entertaining yourself during rainstorms.

 

Their first dinner at the Lake House was spaghetti and meatballs and for desert it was a triple-chocolate pie that had been made and packed for them to take to the house by Abigail Hale just like the meatballs had. Stiles dozed off after dinner, for once not feeling sick after eating due to the medicine Dr. Deaton had given Talia after she’d brought up his nausea Stiles felt after every meal bug or small, Stiles hadn’t slept for too long when there was a loud crack of thunder and a frightened scream from Cora both sounds forcing Stiles awake.

 

It took Stiles a moment to realize that he had opened his eyes because all the lights were out and everything was too dark for him to see anything, and Stiles knew that the damage done to his eyes and brain during the beating hadn’t helped his night vision at all; Stiles was as good as blind now. Stiles could hear Laura and Talia hurry around trying to find candles because while the older werewolves could see perfectly fine in the dark neither Stiles the human and Cora the little werewolf were able to do so. Cora was crying and wolfing he couldn’t see it but he could hear her bones snapping and rearranging, and no matter how much Thomas tries to sooth his little girl he couldn’t calm the little girl.

 

`I’ll find a flashlight, you just stay where you are Stiles.´ he heard Derek say from somewhere to his right, Derek was well aware about Stiles issues with darkness and it made him smile ever so little to hear how desperate Derek was to fix it. Stiles heart races for a moment when he has no idea where Peter was, Stiles could almost imagine feeling Peter’s claws run across his pale throat, he could almost feel his life-force escape through the imaginary slice, and Stiles gets himself so worked-up that smell the blood from that silent kill.

 

But then there is a flash of light from the dark sky the light is bright enough and long enough to reveal where Peter was standing; Stiles sees Peter standing by the floor to ceiling windows overlooking the lake, arms crossed and he does not react the slightest to loud cracking boom that shakes the windows. Cora cries out once more begging her daddy to stop the bad noise, and Stiles snaps out of his moment of being trapped inside his own head. Stiles hates hearing the fear the little werewolf is feeling, he hates it because it bleeds into him like a dreadful poison. He needs to make it stop.

 

Stiles gets off of the pearl-grey couch and made his way towards the grand piano, another flash of light helps him find his way; not that he doesn’t bump into things and hurt his knee on the way to the instrument that no one had touched in ages. It seemed only a few members of the Hale family had ever learned how to play the piano and neither Derek nor Laura had learned the art of music, and Talia like his brothers had been thought to play the piano but neither one cared to keep up with it once they’d come of age.

 

Stiles takes his seat at the fine instrument of keys and sound, his heart racing as his nerves start to convince him this is a bad idea it is not simply the reason of not playing said instrument in ages that had Stiles’ nerves all worked up, it was the fear of betraying his mother that had his hands shaking as they linger above the keys of ebony and ivory; it is the thought that he is breaking his holy promise of never again playing a single instrument he had mastered, a promise Stiles had made while crying over his mother’s grave.  

 

But then as another loud rumble from the sky shakes the windows and Cora screams before whimpering like someone had just struck her, he rethinks his belief in betrayal; but a part of Stiles felt like his mother wouldn’t think too harshly if he broke his promise, his mother would have done everything in her power to help a child who was upset and afraid so if Stiles broke his promise to help Cora then surely she could forgive him.

 

Stiles begins to play, he began with something as simple as the theme song to The New Adventures of Winnie The Pooh; Stiles had spent many hours watching the show with Cora sitting on his lap or curled up beside him while his body healed, Stiles knew it was one of Cora’s favorite shows to watch.

 

It didn’t take long before Cora stopped crying and just stared at Stiles in pure awe; she was silent until the song ended and she made a loud demand for him to play it again which Stiles of course did, and soon enough Cora sat there next to him; leaning against him singing along as best she could the storm raging outside the window forgotten. It doesn’t take long before Stiles fingers begin to ache and grow stiff, some had already been clumsy and unstable to begin with but after four songs Stiles felt like crying because he knew these pains weren’t just from not spending hours each day practicing, he knew that his father was behind the ungracefulness with which he moved his fingers across the keys and he hated the fact that he _had_ to concentrate on every stroke and touch he made.

 

`You were brilliant.´ Derek says as they lay in the dark, Stiles can’t hear the thunder anymore but from Cora’s need to sleep with her parents he is sure it still rages on somewhere in the distance, the sounds lost to his human ears but still clear to the ears of the werewolves in the house. Stiles doesn’t answer him, because what can he say; should he confess that compared to what he had once been his performance an hour ago had been poor, it had been like he’d just started.

 

**~*~**

 

Day two at the Lake House started off with the fire-alarm going off as Talia managed ruining a frying pan by burning the scrambled eggs she had been working on. In the end they had toast and cereal for breakfast, the weather had changed for the better and the Hale-kids even little Cora were eager to go swimming; and Stiles was too that is until he’d changed into his swim trunks and caught a sight of himself in the mirror in the bedroom he was sharing with Derek who had already run of with Laura towards the waters.

 

Stiles had never thought highly about his body and the overall appearance of his person, but now with the markings of his failure at being a good son littering his arms and legs as well as his torso Stiles found himself truly hating his body and feeling absolutely disgusted by it; and not to mention the scars left behind as evidence of the operations Stiles had gone through to save his useless life. 

 

Stiles had until now been able to ignore how ugly he’d become, and as he stared at his reflection Stiles wished with every fiber of his being that if he couldn’t lose the scar then that he could have at least continued to be oblivious to his horrid appearance.Stiles is almost about to cry when he hears a little gasp from behind him, he’s no longer alone in the room because Cora Hale is standing there with her little mouth open-wide and her eyes were suddenly far too large for her pretty little face;she was wearing a pink swimsuit with large yellow flowers, and she would look adorable without her expression of horror and shock.

 

Then Cora does the most horrible thing and starts to cry, and that is just enough to make him feel like heading straight into the kitchen and grab one of the sharp knives and just bring it to his flesh until he’d bleed out because he never meant to frighten the little girl, Stiles  reaches out to grab his clothes so he could cover his disgusting excuse for a body but when he moves Cora does so too; but she’s not running away, she’s running at him and throws little arms around Stiles legs and dear heaven how it terrifies Stiles to imagine how strong Cora will be within a year as she’s already strong enough to cause him pain by the strength of her desperate hug.

 

`You till pletty Tiles.´ Cora mumbles against his knee while rubbing her face against the knee that had a ghostly remnant of a scar that had been born when Stiles had been dragged around and about the basement floor of the house where he hadn’t even lived in for a year, ` Like a helo. Like a pletty blave helo.´

 

`I’m n-n-not a h-h-hero.´ Stiles says with such a fragile voice he sounds like he’s just seconds away from breaking down sobbing, he tries to keep himself from bursting out crying by running his hand through Cora’s hair that feels soft and silky-smooth. Of course Cora can’t agree with that statement, and she argues her case until Stiles surrenders to her will, and once that happens she beams up at him and with her “don’t argue with me or I’ll bite you” voice she says, `Come play in the watel Tiles.´ and so she starts dragging Stiles out of the house and towards the lake, and Stiles grows more and more nervous the closer to the lake they get.

 

The sun was shining bright and there was not a single cloud in the sky, the air was clean and just a gentle breeze would whisper through the forest trees. Laura and Derek were already in the water, while Martha was reclined on one of the loungers enjoying the sun while her baby was sleeping inside the house Stiles had come to learn that neither Peter nor Martha were too keen on having their baby near.Peter was getting out of the water seeing drops of water dancing down his very muscular body which had if Stiles was not mistaken grown more sculpture in appearance than whatit had been during Stiles and Peter’s sordid affair, and for a brief second Stiles couldn’t help the want that exploded inside him at the sight of a soaking wet Peter; but when Peter’s smirk died the moment his gaze turned from Martha to him all Stiles could think about was to run back into the house and hide away for the rest of the day. And then to make matters worse Martha turns her gaze towards Stiles, probably following Peter’s and her pretty face quickly changing from a look of want to disgust and with her usual voice of dislike she says just loud enough for Stiles to hear her, `Such an ugly human. He really shouldn’t be allowed out of the house looking like that.´

 

`And your tongue is of no real use Martha, I should really remove it, shouldn’t I Talia?´ Thomas’ voice has Stiles jumping slightly at the sudden appearance of the Alpha couple, Thomas slips his hand on Stiles shoulder while  Talia simply plants a kiss on the top of Stiles head before agreeing with her mate.

 

Martha is silent for the rest of the day when it comes to Stiles that is.

 

`Now, Stiles let’s get some sunblock on you.´ Talia says while grabbing the bottle of sunblock Stiles knew she had spent nearly fifteen-minutes choosing, Cora was already in the water her older sister making sure to keep her safe and from drowning.

 

It becomes embarrassingly clear that Talia Hale is very thorough when it comes to covering Stiles in the cream that is supposed to keep Stiles from turning into a lobster. Stiles has to wonder if the Alpha thinks he might burst into flames any minute. Thomas laughed when Talia starts to slathered Stiles in sunblock once more after finishing the first coating, `Come on Talia he’s fine.´

 

Talia finished rubbing in the white cream while she glared at Thomas like he had just suggested she should slip her claws into Stiles and shred his innards, the scent of coconuts tickled Stiles nose he never liked the smell, `He’s pale, very pale. Pale people burn Thomas, they burn. He needs sunblock to survive, or do you want our son to suffer and die. He’ll die! ´

 

Thomas shook his head while saying, `He’ll be fine.´

 

`I’m hardly going to die.´ Stiles protested, he did still appreciate the mothering but there was no need to remind him and everyone else how fragile and human he was.

 

`No you won’t.´ Talia says while nodding a few times, her hand rest on the back of his neck and squeezes just enough to make it clear she won’t have him arguing against her, `Because I won’t let you.´ Before letting him go, Talia told him to be mindful of his body and not to swim too far and to stay close to the others, she also told him not to stay in the water for too long, she continued on giving him advice until Cora’s voice called out to Stiles, `Tiles come play!´

 

Lunch was made by Martha which deterred Stiles from eating any of the sandwiches she’d made or the salad because Stiles wasn’t sure she wouldn’t try and poison him, which of course had Talia worried he was getting sick or going back to starving himself again; Talia forced him to call Dr. Greenberg, and he had to sit up in one of the empty bedrooms talking to the woman.

 

Thomas was thankfully in charge of dinner that night and although he was useless in the kitchen like his mate, but the man could barbeque and Stiles eagerly ate the hamburgers Thomas made and the vegetables he’d made; seeing him eat visible calmed Talia’s nerves, Stiles wished that one day Talia could handle Stiles skipping one meal now and again without thinking was going back to starving himself.

 

Stiles felt a hand brushing through his hair, gently stroking the side of his face that wasn’t plastered against his pillow, he wasn’t sure what time it was and he was still too hungry for a bit more sleep to actually wake-up, he was too relaxed and happy to open his eyes and ask Talia or Thomas if everything was alright, he could hear the usual little sounds Derek always made when he was sleeping he could feel gentle lips brush against his temple and cheek before he could no longer keep the sleep away.

 

**~*~**

 

On the third-day at the Lake House everyone but Thomas and Stiles drove into town to do some much needed groceries shopping, while Thomas took Stiles fishing which was a first for Stiles; Thomas had bought Stiles very own and first fishing rod. Thomas took Stiles to his favorite place at the lake; they could see the Lake House well part of it. Thomas had to teach Stiles how to bait his hook and how to cast out; it didn’t take long for Stiles to grasp the concept of fishing. The first fish that was caught was by Stiles, who nearly lost his footing and fell in the lake because he got so incredibly excited about catching his very first fish, but thanks to Thomas’ supernatural speed Stiles didn’t end up in the lake.

 

`What are we going to do with the fishes? ´ Stiles asks after they’ve caught their ninth fish.

 

`I’ll teach you how to clean the wish, and then we’ll cook them over a fire.´ Thomas told Stiles who had never done either in his life; this was a day of firsts for Stiles Stilinski. They caught a few more fishes before Thomas decided they had enough fishes to feed their small pack.

 

`Did you - did you enjoy yourself?´ Thomas asked as they walked back towards the Lake House, it surprised Stiles how Thomas seemed almost worried that Stiles hadn’t actually enjoyed spending two hours fishing and drinking sodas and eating the sandwiches they had made before heading out, well Stiles had made them.

 

`Yes.´ Stiles says while putting a lot of emphases on the word, and he doesn’t even try to hide how shocked he is that Thomas would doubt it because this wasn’t maybe what he’d consider fun but Stiles had enjoyed getting a moment just hanging around Thomas and doing something every boy did with their dads at least once; or at least should do, even Scott’s dad had taken Scott out fishing several times although Scott had never enjoyed it.

 

`Really? ´ Thomas asked, still a bit unsure. Stiles nods before quickly telling Thomas how he’d enjoyed spending some alone time with him, about doing something so normal as fishing and learning how to do it, how he’d liked listening to Thomas talk about his childhood and especially about Thomas’ rather eccentric uncle Patrick. Before Stiles is able to tell him about how he had like to do this again before leaving the Lake House, Thomas drops everything and hugs Stiles tightly, `My boy, my boy, you have no idea how happy I am, finally I found a fishing partner.´

 

 They stay like that for a while before Thomas pulls away wearing this wicked grin on his lips and a sparkle in his eyes as he says, `What would you say about leaving one of our extra fishes in Laura’s room?´

 

Stiles can’t help the wide grin that pulls at Stiles cheeks as he says with that little voice he uses only when he and Thomas are up to no good, `You wicked, wicked man.´

 

Thomas laughs that loud laughter that always makes Stiles laugh and because he feels safe with Thomas, because he trusts him, Stiles asks if they could leave a little gift to Martha as well.

 

The loudest of laughter explodes from Thomas and the gleam in his eyes tells Stiles that yes they can.

 

**~*~**

 

Day four at the Lake House starts with almost everyone but Martha and Peter Hale laughing, even Laura who had found a fish in her bed last night was laughing her freaking ass off when the glaring couple came downstairs for breakfast; neither one had forgotten finding fish-guts in raining down on them as they walked into their bedroom late last night, the two of them still smelled like fish-guts which had Cora shouting, `My nose hults.´

 

For the rest of the day Stiles and the Hales spent the day swimming and sunbathing, it was a calm and relaxed day even with Martha still fuming. Lunch was made Stiles and Derek, which was simply because Stiles was starving and they feared what disaster would fall him if Talia made lunch; and considering that would be making dinner didn’t really bode well so Stiles and Derek made lunch. Even though it was obvious Martha hated Stiles she still ate happily the tomato soup Stiles had made without making a single remark, she didn’t even say thank you when she was finished.

 

Laura made dinner that night which had them all feeling very nervous until it became clear that Laura had Thomas barbequing, so in the end it wasn’t really Laura who made dinner well she did make the salad. At the end of the day Thomas had a fire burning by the lake they made s’mores. As they sat there by the fire, Stiles couldn’t help the feeling of sadness that swelled in his heart. He wished he’d had all this with his family.

 

**~*~**

 

The fifth-day began with breakfast made by Peter Hale. Although there were waffles and beacon, Stiles didn’t eat because the thought of taking anything from Peter Hale didn’t feel right, and not to be rude he chose not to even eat cereal and made an excuse about not feeling well. Of course everyone could tell he was lying but no one but Martha brought it up by asking if Stiles thought himself too good to eat the food made by a Beta, which of course resulted in everyone but Peter and Cora growling at her. For the rest of the day all Martha got were growls and glares, which was all good with Stiles because he really didn’t like the woman.

 

On the fifth-day at the Lake House they left the fine building to go to hiking around the forest with two picnic baskets and without Peter and his miserable family. When they found a secluded spot with a clearing full with pretty little flowers, Talia and her two oldest children shifted and went off running while Stiles helped Cora pick flowers and Thomas began to make everything ready for their picnic.

 

They stayed in the forest until dinner times was rolling in, when they came back to the house there was a nice surprise waiting for them; Abigail Hale and meatloaf, needless to say everyone even Thomas hugged her tightly because on day six it would have been Talia’s turn to make dinner.

 

Stiles fell asleep full and happy. During the night he dreamt he heard people talking, two angry voices to be precise. But it was a strange dream that ended quickly and was replaced by a dream where Stiles was running around in a forest with wolves running alongside him.

 

~*~

 

Day six was a day was another day of rain which was according to Abigail the perfect reason to bake a ton of cookies, everyone but Martha and Peter joined the baking as the couple and their child headed into town to spend the day. Stiles enjoyed baking with the Hale’s even if Thomas had a bad habit of eating the dough and Talia kept stealing away most of the chocolate chips. Laura got lemon juice in her eye while aiming it at Derek who on the other hand was one of those people who followed the recipe like a slave and got frustrated when his older sister wasn’t of the same mind. Then there was Cora who liked throwing flour all around because it was according to her like snow.

 

When the baking was finished they settled in the living room with cups of hot chocolate and a mountain of cookies, Talia and Derek reading while Abigail browsed through a magazine while Thomas and Cora with Stiles played Hungry Hungry Hippos. The funniest part of the day was when Talia had mistakenly thought she could help make lunch, which had Abigail asking her daughter, `Talia are you trying to kill Stiles by food poisoning? ´ everyone but Talia had laughed at that.

 

After lunch when the rain had died down into nothing, everyone came along to fish with Thomas and Stiles but the fishes caught had to be released when Cora heard about what would happen to the fish, having to let go all the fishes they had caught had both Derek and Thomas groaning and Stiles just laughed because the looks of agony the two male werewolves had when they were forced to free their catch was just hilarious to him.

 

By the time dinner rolled around Peter and Martha returned, and Peter attacked the cookies which earned him a slap at the back of his head as he was about to spoil his appetite for dinner and you were never allowed to destroy your appetite when it came to Abigail’s cooking. There was no fish on the menu due to Cora’s “Save the fishes” episode, instead Abigail made something she called mystery stew which was delicious even if Stiles was a bit nervous about where she had found the meat.

 

**~*~**

 

On the seventh morning Stiles was awakened by Cora leaping up on him, her joyful nature was almost as irritating as the sun racing through the window and on to his face, Stiles could smell the scent of beacon and chocolate chip pancakes. He could hear Abigail singing in the kitchen, and he could hear Talia laughing. And slowly his mood shifted from annoyance to bemusement and he threw Cora down onto his matrass and started to tickle her until she escaped his grasp, screaming happily, `TILES AWAKE! ´

 

`Good girl Princess.´ Thomas laughed from down the hall.

 

`Is she getting more irritating, or is it just me.´ Derek grumbled as he walked into their room, fresh from a shower and still so grumpy looking.

 

`Careful Derek, that there is a loaded gun.´ Stiles said, since the ointment Dr. Deaton had given Talia the morning aches had eased somewhat.

 

`Dear heaven, imagine when she’s a teenager.´ Derek groaned as he started to get dressed, this was always a difficult moment for Stiles, he hated the side of himself that felt a hunger for such a fine male specimen as Derek Hale;Stiles hated himself for his lingering want for his own sex because surely that was one of the reasons his father had hated him so much, this want made him into an abomination.

 

`She’ll be beautiful.´ Stiles said, trying to convince himself that he could one day fully appreciate the beauty of Cora Hale but he knew that the disgusting side inside of him that had driven him into the arms of Peter Hale. Derek freezes at his words and Stiles fears that he might have offended him but then Derek turns around to look at Stiles with the most peculiar look in his eyes as he says, `I’m not going to allow stupid boys chasing around after my little sister.´ 

 

`You can’t be serious.´ Stiles snorts at the image in his head of Derek threatening every male kid in town that even looks at his sister, `Have you forgotten how though Cora is already, she’ll kick their assess the moment they piss her off.´

 

Abigail had indeed made a glorious breakfast with waffles and pancakes, there were eggs and sausages as well as beacon and a lot of fruit because Abigail insisted Stiles should eat a lot of healthy foods so he could grow big and strong.

 

Everyone seemed to be in a good mood that morning, well everyone but Martha who continued glaring at Stiles like he had offended her bloodily.

 

They spent the day swimming and horsing around in the water, tomorrow they would leave for Beacon Hills so this was the last chance to enjoy the clean water and fresh air. Abigail made risotto for lunch which they ate by thewater.

 

After lunch Stiles returned to his bed, he needed to take a nap. It didn’t take him long before he’d slipped off to sleep. He slept for maybe a half an hour dreaming of his mother all healthy and happy in her garden, when he heard a loud crash and snarling.But when Stiles is wide-awake the sound that had brought him out of his sleep was no more, and so he brushed it off as just a part of the dream.

 

Stiles found almost the entire pack Peter and Martha weren’t there, Thomas and Talia were also missing but when he asked Abigail about the Alpha couple she simply said, `Out for a run.´ Stiles sat down next to the older Hale, still not sure if he could abuse his body with another swim so soon after waking-up. Derek and Laura were in the water with Cora, tossing her around like she wasn’t a little child but a doll that squealed with joy.

 

`You alright, honey? ´ Abigail asked Stiles as she handed him a glass of ice tee.

 

`Yeah?´ Stiles says, a bit unsure how he felt about dreaming about his mother, it always left an ache inside him, `I just dreamt about my mother´ Abigail took his hand in hers and held it tightly as if to remind him he wasn’t entirely alone in the world.

 

Dinner was an elaborate affair that night, everyone dressed in their finest to celebrate their last day at the Lake House. Stiles felt a bit uncomfortable with the sudden formal clothing and all the fancy silverware, he didn’t relax until all the Hale’s suddenly howled loudly and began to run towards the lake some undressing as they ran and others just jumped into the water in their suites and dresses; it took both Stiles and Martha to get with the program, but soon enough everyone was in the water laughing and howling.

 

Stiles had to wonder what other strange traditions the Hale’s had, and made a mental note to ask about it one day. But the thought escaped the moment the pack gathered around the fire, curled up in blankets and watching the stars shine down over them while making s’mores, and as soon as Cora fell asleep in Thomas’ arms it was time for ghost stories and mythical tales about werewolves; while Peter told a tale about a white wolf, Stiles drifted off to sleep unaware that Thomas would carry him to bed after he’d done the same for Cora. 

 


	48. Dream a Little Nightmare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter was out of bed within a heartbeat, running down the hall and into the bedroom Stiles shared with his nephew, his wolf growling and snarling at the scent of Derek and Stiles joined together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, we’ve got a little about Peter here, not sure why really maybe to explain what’s going to happen between Stiles and Martha in the next chapter…. damn it, I really should know why, right?

 

_He could hear soft music coming from behind the thick curtains which felt heavy to move and still they felt like silk between his fingers. When he managed to finally slip through a very narrow gap between the white heavy fabrics he found himself gapping at the surroundings for now he was in a great chamber of mirrors; everything from floor to ceiling and the great walls as well as the dome-shaped ceiling. But it wasn’t the mirrored surroundings that had him pausing, it was the sight of his family gathered there all dressed-up in their finest._

 

_His mother and father were dancing, all smiles and soft kisses. Paige providing their parents with the music they needed. They all looked so beautiful and happy, and all Stiles wanted was to join them._

 

_He took a few tentative steps until everything stopped. The music died, the dancing ended and the smiles broke down into snarls, eyes once bright narrowed in on him all dark and cold. The bright light that had lit the roomall welcoming and warm changed into something cold, shadows crept from all around and Stiles could sense something moving in the darkness._

 

_`Leave.´ his father barked, arms still firmly around Stiles mother who was resting her head against the shoulders that had once carried a much younger Stiles around. Stiles thinks at first that his father is talking to the thing hiding in the shadow and hurries to the safety he believes his mother and father will provide him, but the moment Stiles makes a move towards the two who had given him life his father points straight at him and orders Stiles to leave._

 

_The tone his father has is enough to make Stiles feel like the man had punched him in the gut, he turns to look at his mother all pleading and then at his sister all hopeful while his father hisses at him, `We don’t want you here. Leave.´_

 

_`Look at how ugly he is mama.´ Paige says from where she is still seated in a chair that looks like it’s made out of crystals while her cello appears to have been made from snow, `Disgusting thing, that’s what he is, isn’t he mama? ´ His sisters voice is cold and cruel, and it brings tears into Stiles eyes even without the cruel words she’s spoken._

 

_`Mama.´ Stiles whimpers, reaching out towards his beautiful mother who is still resting against his father but her gaze has turned towards Stiles, the moment he moves towards her his hand reaching out with the slightly disfigured fingers, she stands straight-up and with a voice almost unrecognizable she speaks to him, `I’m not your mother you filthy thing. I have no abominations as my child. You think I would have a twisted, sick, useless thing like you as a son? ´ Then she laughs and her husband smirks before kissing her cheek all lovingly and gentle._

 

_`You should have smothered him with a pillow, my love, instead of your love.´ his father whisper into the ear of the woman that had once loved Stiles, she hums in agreement before saying, `We should have drowned him in the bath when we had the chance.´_

 

_`Or dropped him down the stairs over and over again, until he broke his neck or cracked his skull.´ Cora sing-songs in agreement._

 

_`Dropped him in the river.´ the hatefulness in his mother’s voice had Stiles bursting out in tears, begging for his mama to stop, but instead she continued on telling how she wished she’d dropped him in a pot with boiling water or shoved him in the oven, hit him over the head with a hammer because she couldn’t stand having something so decrepit tied to her good name._

 

_`I could take him.´ a familiar voice called out from the shadows, a voice that had Stiles trying to run for the exit but suddenly there were no doorways and when Stiles turned back towards his parents, ready to beg and plead for them to keep him safe because he really didn’t want to go with Peter who wasn’t at all alone there in the chamber of mirrors; the werewolf that had attacked him on the night his sister had been killed stood there alongside Peter, but before Stiles could speak there were hands pushing him down on the floor forcing him onto all fours._

 

_`Such a good bitch.´ the werewolf said as it moved over towards Stiles who was crying and trembling with fear, looking up at his mother and father which had started to dance once more and Paige had returned to her duty of providing them with the music they needed. The werewolf ran its clawed hand over Stiles back, and the more he began to tremble the more pleased the werewolf seemed to become._

 

_`P-please d-don’t. ´ Stiles sobs, pleads, but the werewolf simply pulls down his pants and unzips his own, `I d-d-don’t w-wan’t…´_

 

_There are claws digging into his hip and neck as the werewolf bends over him and growls into Stiles ear, `You think I give a fuck what you want.´ the beast bites and tears at his ear until Stiles screams, `You should only want to please my dick.´ Then there’s that familiar pain that has Stiles screaming and trashing, but his hands and legs are chained to the floor and he can barely move but he fights still because he can’t go through this again._

 

_Stiles screams, screams for help, for the pain to stop as it the beast pushes inside him. Still his parents continue to dance, while Peter sits nearby with his mate in his lap smiling and laughing as Stiles is raped once more. Stiles screams until the screams are just that, there are no words just the horrible sound he can manage in his desperate state._

 

_Then there’s this tightness all around him, squeezing him until he feels like his bones are breaking and lungs are popping like strange balloons. Then he hears someone familiar but strange at the same time yelling at him, telling him to wake-up._

 

**~*~**

 

The house was oddly quiet, the larger part of their pack was out running as the full-moon stood high above the trees all heavy and bright, the silence was a lovely change so much so that he almost didn’t mind having to share this moment and his bottle of fine wine with Martha; both of them were reading, snuggled up on their own side of the their bed. Peter was re-reading Crime and Punishment yet again in its original tongue, while Martha had chosen to read Bridget Jones Diary. They had retired to their room once it became clear that they could not find the peace the craved anywhere else in the house.Peter sips his wine the dark liquid delightfully earthy in its taste; he savors the taste of grapes and something almost woodland. Peter ignores his book and turns his focus to the boy in the other room.

 

Peter had heard Stiles and Abigail coming up the stairs soon after he and Martha settled in their bed, Peter had used on of Stiles sleeping drugs on the child that was now sleeping across the room from him and Martha; he was sure Martha knew what he had done, but she seemed more eager to have her own moment of peace than to worry over the welfare of her daughter.

 

Peter knew why his mother followed Stiles into the bedroom the boy shared with his nephew. Everyone in the pack knew that every night before bed that Stiles skin, the skin that had been damaged beyond repair by belts and knives, needed to be covered in an ointment that at first smelled like something rotten but the longer it was rubbed into the skin the finer the scent became; the scent became a mixture of honey, milk, and chocolate as well as just a hint of roasted almonds and apples.

 

Peter had listened to the little sounds Stiles had made when Abigail had pushed away the knots in his back and neck, he had listened to the two talk and laugh about this and that before Abigail wished the boy goodnight; Peter could hear the great amount of love his mother felt towards the boy Peter had seduced and used for his pleasure, the boy he had hurt perhaps beyond repair.

 

Once Abigail had left Stiles the boy began tossing and turning in his bed before settling down enough to draw Peter’s attention back to his book, it was a usual thing for Stiles to toss and turn until he found the most comfortable position; Peter knew this from simply listening in on the boy every night.

 

Originally when Stiles had moved into the house Peter had expected things from Stiles, he had expected the boy to be like all young males but it seemed being raped by a werewolf and later his father had damaged the boy to the point he did not masturbate; which was a shame. There were many other wants and desires that had shatter once the boy moved into the house, the boy had not warmed-up to Peter at all, he would not greet him in the morning or wish him goodnight, the boy would go as far as avoiding spending even a minute alone in a room with Peter. All Peter sensed was anger and fear directed towards him from the boy, the anger Peter could understand but the fear was much more of a mystery considering how Stiles could not possibly know about Peter’s little agreement with Ennis.

 

Peter snapped out of his thoughts when he realized Stiles had fallen asleep; the sound of his heart and breathing united in a peaceful pace. Peter would never admit aloud how much he enjoyed hearing the boy at peace, heart beat calm and steady rhythm unchanging. Peter continued slipped between listening to Stiles sleeping and reading his book, he wasn’t sure if Martha noticed it and he didn’t care if she did; Peter might have been mated with her, but it didn’t bind him entirely to her as they were mated out of necessity rather than true desire and want.

 

Suddenly the heartbeat increased its beats and it made Peter lay down his book and placing the glass of wine on the bedside table, he tilted his head and listened to the little whimper that came from the other room, he hoped that would be it that the boy would settle back down into a peaceful slumber. Peter listened in carefully to the sounds coming from the bedroom, Martha continued reading even as the sound of the boy tossing and turning in his bed; Peter knew she disliked the human and couldn’t care if Stiles died tomorrow, that was why she seemed almost blind and deaf to the boy.

 

The moment the screaming began Peter was out of bed like a flash of lightning across the sky, the sound of the frantic heart changing its rhythm into a worrisome beat that brought back a memory of the day Stiles heart had failed him. In his haste to stop the fear from increasing to the point where the fragile heart might exhaust itself to an unwanted stop, Peter knocks the glass of wine the dark liquid spilling all over the white sheepskin rug by the bed.  

 

Peter is through the door before he knows it, bolting towards the bed where Stiles was kicking and screaming, pleading for whomever or whatever it was in his head that was hurting and terrifying him to stop and telling this person or thing that it hurts. Theirs is an almost death-like appearance to the teenager, and Peter is on the bed within seconds.

 

Peter ignores the beast within him, it growls and snarls at the scent that assaults its senses; Stiles scent mixed with Derek’s is still one of the many things that drives Peter’s wolf mad. Peter pulls the boy into his lap, the way he has seen Talia and Thomas do what feels like about a hundred times but is no more than twenty or so times, he keeps Stiles head pressed against his heart restraining the bony hands with one of his own while the free one cradles the head that had been beaten with a broom so many times until both broom and skull cracked, Peter had seen the pictures of the head before the rushed surgery there had been splinters of the broken broom stuck into the scalp. The memory sickens him and Peter Hale does his best to focus on Stiles and Stiles alone. Peter traps the thin legs with one of his own more muscular ones and bends the other to rest against the back that had once been all smooth pale skin dotted with dark moles a back that was now covered in markings left by both belt and knives as well as broom and fire; of course there were also the markings of the surgery done to save the boy’s mobility but those scars could easily be forgiven and forgotten.

 

`Stiles.´ Peter calls out to the boy, all firm and demanding, but although Peter wishes it not his voice betrays his feelings of concern and dread, `Stiles. Wake-up.´ he demands this over and over again, voice loud and stronger, pushing out a few words of “You’re safe” as well as the occasional “I got you” as well as “Come back to me little one.”

 

Stiles struggles against his hold, and forces Peter to use more strength than he was comfortable using against the boy, he increases the pressure of his hold on the boy until he fears he might just crush the body. Abigail is soon by the open door next to a glaring Martha who had appeared by the without Peter noticing it.

 

`Get his medicine.´ Peter barks at his mother as the heartbeat makes that awful sound of skipping beats and strange thumps, he expects Abigail to argue but she doesn’t she bolts downstairs shouting at the little ones watching MTV Cribs to head out and find their auntie Talia or uncle Thomas.

 

`Come on Stiles.´ Peter snaps at the boy that has started to scream, just scream like he is being torn from limb from limb or burned alive, the body in his arms has gone rigid, `Come on Stiles wake-up.´ the brown eyes that held just enough amber in them to make them almost golden in the morning light or bronze in the light of the setting sun snapped open and a smile flickered across Peter’s lips as he thinks the nightmare is over, but he soon realizes that boy isn’t really there because those wonderful eyes see not the realm of reality but the horrors Stiles dreams had created.

 

`MUM!´ Peter screamed as Stiles breathing began to do a worrisome switch, if Peter were ever to be asked to describe the sound of Stiles breathing at that moment he would have said, “it was like he was drowning in air.” He hears his mother curse downstairs while bottles and jars crash to the floor, a frustrated and mournful howl breaks through the house and Peter knows his mother had dropped the bottle; he just knows there will be no medicine.

 

`Martha turn on the water in the shower, turn it ice-cold!´ Peter yells as he tries to rearrange Stiles in his arms so that he can safely carry him to the bathroom, Martha doesn’t move she simply glares at Peter and Stiles who is trapped inside his head with the monsters that have him reeking of absolute terror, `Martha!´

 

`I got it uncle Peter!´ one of his younger nieces shouts, he can hear someone running up the stairs before the sound of a shower turning on reaches him, then the person rushes back downstairs and out of the house. Peter smells the urine before he feels the wet patch that grows and grows on his lap. Even wetting himself doesn’t wake-up the boy whose body is simply rigid in his arms and tears are flooding out of the terrifyingly wide eyes. Peter can’t even imagine what is going on inside that mind that had once been so wonderful and unique, and Peter isn’t even sure he wants to know what Stiles was experiencing inside his head.

 

Peter battles his way up and out of the bed, and hurries out of the room and past his glaring mate and runs towards the bathroom because he can feel the heart in the body he is rushing to save begin to give in to Deaths cold grip. Peter nearly slips as he steps inside the shower; the water is ice-cold fighting against his instinct to pull-away from the cold that rains down on him. Peter sinks down onto the floor, the icy-spray of water hitting him and Stiles soaking both of them.

 

`Peter?´ Abigail breathes heavily as she stares down at him and Stiles, almost as soon as she has said his name Stiles snaps out of his head, and Peter smiles down at him his hand reaching up to cup the cheek of the small boy in his arms, but the reaction Stiles has to him is not one Peter had expected; Stiles starts trashing against him and screaming for help, Abigail’s growling and Talia’s and Thomas’ howl of “where on our way” has Peter releasing Stiles who stumbles and crawls away from him.

 

Peter watches his mother try and wrap Stiles into one of the larger towels, but it is a struggle as Stiles won’t stop moving; he keeps crawling further and further away from the bathroom and Peter until he simply breaks down and cries while curling up into a ball. It is then and only then as he watches Stiles that Peter realizes how shattered the boy was.

 


	49. Early Morning Confronts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Martha Hale did not appreciate the stolen looks her mate was shooting towards the orphan. She hated them, she disliked the way Peter was visibly wanted the boy. She was not jealous, but she was angry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Martha’s chapter this one, I think I did it because I felt I needed to give her a moment or something… I also needed to plant some seeds into Stiles brain or at least that’s what I’ve been able to cypher from my notes.

 

Martha Wallis wasn’t one who usually preferred ignorance above knowledge, at least when it came to her own life, but since she had met and later mated with one Peter Hale she found it almost a necessity to be ignorant and blind to various things if she wished to find herself as the mate of an Alpha. Her mother had always told Martha that some sacrifices were necessary for the greater good, and Martha had lived by this simple teaching so much so that she set her own education aside to ensure keeping the future Alpha of the Hale pack at her side; she snared Peter because she’d sensed she was losing him for good, and that was just something Martha could not allow. For her futures sake Martha made sacrifices, for her futures sake she turned a blind eye to everything that might push her to act unwisely; she kept her head held high and played pretend.

 

Martha lived her mated life ignoring the wrongs of her relationship, pretending everything was as it should be, until it became unbearable. Once the walls Martha had built to shelter her makeshift world from the reality began to crack and the disgusting truth of her mate’s desires began to seep through contaminating the world Martha had forged. It was the arrival of the parasite called Stiles Stilinski that brought forth the truth Martha had tried to be blind and deaf too.

 

Her mate, the future Alpha of the Hale pack, was as much as Peter Hale was capable of in love with the human.

 

Martha might have been able to continue ignoring the stolen looks her mate gave the boy, Martha could have continued being deaf to the sound of his heartbeat changing when the boy was near or peacefully asleep in the other room, but when Peter rushed out of their bedroom the moment the boy started screaming for help there was no more ignoring it; her mate never showed such need to reach their daughter when she cried, but when the human boy cried her mate ran to the aid of the boy as if Peter’s own life depended on reaching the human child.

 

Martha might not love her mate or care for him much and she may not love their offspring, but Martha’s desire to keep face and to not lose her future statues as the great mate of Alpha Hale was why she could not sit idly by when some little orphan boy tried to humiliate her.

 

It was a barely morning when Martha heard the boy begin to stir behind the wall of her own bedroom, the boy groaned as he stood and made her way out of the bedroom the useless boy shared with the Alpha’s son; Martha made her way out of her marital bed with one glance at her mate, dressing herself in the fine dressing gown Peter had bought her for Christmas and proceeded out of the room.

 

Martha starred down the boy who froze at the sight of her, at least he had enough sense to avoid any at all eye contact with Martha, she could smell the discomfort and dislike the boy felt around her, but there was no fear which always lingered in the human child’s scent when her mate was around. Martha moved towards the child who ran his hand over the arm that was covered with scars that would never truly heal, eyes lowered.

 

`M-m-morning.´ the boy stuttered, she hated the stuttering and had on a few occasions told him to stop, demanded to know if he was a simpleton asked if he was brain damaged or something. Annoyed with the boy, sour in her mood from the lack of sleep as her thoughts were overrun by the relationship between her mate and the human boy, has her flashing her golden eyes at him.

 

`Let me give you some advice human.´ Martha begins without so much as an attempt at hiding her contempt towards the boy who flinches the moment she speaks, it pleases Martha to see such a reaction from the boy and it fuels her onwards, `  Leave. Leave this house. Leave this pack.´ her words visible startles the boy who looks up at her with wide eyes of disbelief.

 

`You do not belong here human.´  Martha hissed as she walked towards the boy who immediately began to attempt to make his way back to his room, but she  grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him in closer so Martha could show the boy the sharp fangs, `If you stay you will only destroy this pack, you’ve already done as much to your own family, haven’t you?´ her words visibly struck a chord inside the boy and she could see the guilt bloom inside the boy and she grasped at it, `One by one we will all perish because of you.´  The boy shakes his head, trying so desperately not to believe her but Martha knows her words are taking root.

 

 `Think about it. Everyone who comes into contact with you ends up dead, don’t they? ´ Martha asked as she released the boy, it was then that she heard her mates voice hiss, `Enough Martha, leave the boy alone.´

 

Peter stepped in between her and the prey, the stench of fear rose from the smaller body and Martha noticed the reaction the smell had on her mate and it made her growl; it was obvious that Peter could not stand the poignant smell that came off of the child. His stance was all protective and it made her wolf growl because if anyone should be blessed with Peter’s protection it was she and her cub not this little worthless creature that feared Peter more than the Hale pack’s own Alpha.

 

`What’s wrong with you? ´ Martha hissed and flashed her eyes at her mate who did the same at her, while they had their little stare-down the boy scurried off into his room, the moment Peter noticed that his precious pet was gone he moved back into their room and Martha was quick to follow because she was so done with this thing between her and Peter and that thing of a human.

 

`What were you thinking? ´ Peter snarled at her, `what if Talia had caught you? ´

 

`How long have you lusted after that boy?´ Martha asked voice laced with the jealousy she had imagined herself far-above, she was a superior being compared to the human that was broken surely beyond repair, who wasn’t even pretty, `Were you already drooling over him before you and I became mated? Have you slept with him, behind my back? Are you fucking him? ´

 

`Careful Martha, ´ Peter growled, `you’re starting to sound mighty jealous.´ 

 

Martha would never admit she was the claim Peter was making, she simply glared at her mate and hissed out, `Aren’t you even going to deny it, aren’t you going to tell me I’m crazy to even think you want that thing…´ she doesn’t get the finish her spew of anger when Peter’s got his clawed hand wrapped around her throat and snarls, `I’m mated to you, that should be enough to calm that paranoid mind of yours. He is just a boy, leave him be.´

 

`Is that an order?´ Martha asked while struggling for air, Peter gives her that almost psychotic grin that sends ice-cold shivers through her body, `Yes.´ he purrs before he nips at her neck, `Wouldn’t it just be a pity if you didn’t take it, and something horrible were to happen to you.´

 

Martha understands suddenly that there is something dangerous about her mate; he would not hesitate to kill her, cut her throat open and see her bleed out if she ever stepped out of line. She sees the terrifying truth about her mate; he is something deadly and vicious, something she had never imagined him to be. For the first-time in her life she fears someone, and this someone isn’t even an Alpha.

 

**~*~**

 

There wasn’t much else Stiles could do but to run back to the room he shared with Derek, his bladder was full and aching but Stiles didn’t have the courage to face either Peter or Martha unless someone else was there to see to it sharp claws never reached his throat. Stiles crawls under the blankets of his bed wishing he could fall asleep once more, but he can’t and so he just lays there allowing his mind to wander until he feels like he’s going mad; Martha’s words are on repeat, a constant rerun that has him crying into his pillow.

 

Stiles has no idea how long he has been quietly crying into his bed, but suddenly he feels someone slid into bed with him and wrap their arms around him, and then a still sleepy Derek whispers softly into Stiles hair, `I’m here. You’re safe.´ Stiles almost snorts at the words, but he understands not to act on his instinct because even though Derek really didn’t have to be there holding him and comforting him, and Stiles appreciated the comfort Derek was giving him, `You’re okay Stiles.´

 

Derek talks to him softly and Stiles focus is on that voice which helps him from slipping into another panic attack that had been slowly crawling its way to the surface, and by the time Stiles has stopped weeping they were both wide-awake, the nightlight of no use now that the morning sun whispers in through their bedroom window. They stayed curled up into each other silent until it became too long for Stiles who still had to pee and was now growing more and more uncomfortable.

 

`I’m s-sorry for w-waking y-you up.´ Derek tightens his hold around Stiles which almost has Stiles wetting the bed, because Derek just had to put presure on the wrong spot, which made Stiles groan.

 

`It’s fine.´ Derek tells him, voice light and easy, `Bad dream?´ when Stiles shakes his head Derek huffs as if he doesn’t believe Stiles, and then Derek scents him the growl starts at once and Stiles knows immedietly why Derek is growling into his neck; Peter had touched Stiles, his hand had come into contact with Stiles to be precise it had come to rest above Stiles franticly beating heart.

 

`Peter.´ the teen-wolf growls sounding ready to shread Peter into bloody little pieces. The growl causes Stiles to feel strangly safe, and he moves closer to Derek because the mention of Derek’s uncle had a coldness spreading through his much smaller frame.

 

Stiles could now understand why Paige had always seemed attached to Derek, why she’d always been in his arms. A tear slips from him, because thinking about Paige is as painful as thinking about his mother and father.

 

`M-M-Martha s-she,´ Stiles begins but stops because he really doesn’t know what to say or if he needs to say anything about what had happened just a few hours ago between him and her, telling him to leave and confirming what he had already known himself and the pack wasn’t a good enough of a reason to freakout. And what about Peter? He hadn’t really done anything to warent too much attention.  

 

Stiles was just being a baby, a pathetic human who was too broken and fucked-up to handle small encounters in a dark hall in the early hours of the morning.

 

`What happened, did they do something?´ Derek asked still growling, and even if Stiles told him nothing had happened Derek still promised surely in vain that he would keep him safe from both Martha and Peter. Still Stiles apreciated the gesture.

 

`Thank you.´ Stiles says, which rewards him another huff from Derek who says, `You’re now my little brother Stiles, it’s my job to take care of you. Got that baby-bro.´ Stiles couldn’t help but burst out laughing at that, and so did Derek who grinned into Stiles shoulder, `I’m so calling you baby-brp at school and little brother too; you are so never going to be one of the cool kids Stiles.´

 

`That’s good, because I really wouldn’t want to lose my intelect hanging around all you airheads.´ Stiles laughed which caused Derek snort, but then with a pretence of seriousness he replied, `Well I’ve got you to do my homework now, why would I need a brai?´ They continued on like that for about fifteen-minutes until Stiles had to admit the presure was becoming too much.

 


	50. Three Pairs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Talia Hale enjoyed it as much as her mate did, she enjoyed walking around the mall with Derek and Stiles getting the two of them what they needed. Talia knew that her mate loved it all as much as she did even if Thomas hated malls and shopping, even if he preferred to be outdoors he was a father and would be at a mall spending hours making sure she and their little ones were safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it took me forever to post chapter 50, got another birthday request so I've been working on it, I'm sorry and I'll try and do better. I’m also sorry about how Thomas turned out in this chapter, I've just realized I might have made Thomas sound a bit overly-hateful towards humans. But I still love him.... don't you judge me.

 

 

Talia yawned loudly stretching out her limbs as far as she could with her mate plastered against her, she was feeling happy and satiated the previous night had been just what the doctor had ordered; the night had been a pleasurable one for her and her mate, they had spent the night in the running around freely in the Preserve, and took shelter in the underground den Talia’s family had long ago created to ensure such nights for mated couples. The den was small the earthy walls and floors covered with pelts of such beautiful animals like foxes and a few mountain lions, the space was only just large enough to fit them both especially considering how Thomas was a mountain of a man. The scent of Thomas and her was thick in the air and it made her wolf hum with satisfaction.

 

Glancing up at her mate who was still sleeping peacefully his face all relaxed and handsome, Talia couldn’t help but smile because she was the luckiest woman on earth. Talia nuzzled her mates cheek which still held the scent of blood from the offering Thomas had made her the large mountain lion was indeed a great kill and she knew why he had gone for it instead of a dear or a pretty fox; the animal had been a threat to their youngest male pup who happened to be human and so very breakable and easy to kill. If the mountain lion hadn’t started moving around the paths Stiles sometimes took to walking and if the beautiful animal hadn’t started sniffing around the grounds near the house where Stiles often hung up the laundry or where the child worked in the garden or where he liked to sit and read, well then the poor beast could have been left well-alone.

 

Thomas killed the animal to protect their human pup, and she could not help but love her mate; he was strong and protective while also being gentle and loving, and so handsome that she could never desire any other man more than she did her mate.

 

Feeling a great deal of love towards her mate who had against all odds been able to accept their son who was neither their blood or kind, she kissed Thomas tenderly and lovingly in order to tempt her wonderful mate out of his tranquil slumber. A small smile whispered worth to Thomas’ lips before he answered her kisses with the same gentle care she showed him; the touches mirrored their soft kisses, and as their kisses slowly grew in intensity and want so did the movements of hands and fingers.

 

`Stop.´ Thomas groaned into Talia’s mouth while her hand began to journey downwards towards his hardening member, ` Talia we need to stop.´

 

Talia had no desire to stop not when Thomas felt so ready and good for her, all she wanted to do was feel him inside her once more before they had to return to house, it didn’t matter to her that they had made love several times last night in both human and wolf forms; her hunger for Thomas could never truly be satisfied and she wished he felt the same towards her.  

 

`No. No we don’t.´ Talia said with a smile she knew drove her mate mad, her hand cupping his balls making sure he truly was able to breed her if she so wished it, `Mum will take care of the pups. Don’t worry. Come on Thomas, I know you want it as much as I do.´ Talia purred the last few words into the ear of her mate before nibbling at the earlobe, growling slightly as he began to try and pull away from her attention.

 

`So, ´ her mate sounded strained and wanting, which had her hand wrapping around his wonderful cock that was so obedient to her, she loved it because it had always been hers and no one else’s; she knew Laura and Peter had not kept themselves pure for their mates, but she had and so had Thomas and it pleased her wolf to know he had never been with another.

 

`We’re trusting Abigail to take the boy’s to get all the new clothes they need,´ Talia released her hold of her mate’s earlobe at that, ` and to remember to get Stiles’ new glasses,´ those words had her releasing her mate’s hardening cock.

 

With the thought that her mother would be taking Derek and Stiles to get everything they needed did not sit well with Talia who was under no delusions of how long her boys would allow her to mother them, the thought of losing what little precious time she had with Derek and Stiles had her crawling out of the den; she would not miss any opportunity to spend time with boys. Once her little ones left their high school years behind for the college experience there was always the displeasing possibility that the two would only visit during Thanksgiving and Christmas.

 

Talia could hear Thomas laughing at her sudden eagerness to leave him hard and aching for the sake of spending the day with her younglings, she could have taken offense by his behavior towards her want to cherish what little time she had with her sons; but Talia knew her mate enough understand he too had a need to spend as much time as possible with both their boys before fate would have them separated under the name of education. And so he soon followed her out of the little shelter, together they cleaned themselves in the stream that flowed until all the dirt and filth that had latched to their skins and hairs were eradicated. Finding their clothes where they had left them before their night of chase and play, they got dressed quickly before making their way back towards their house with running feet.

 

It was a fine morning cool and fresh, the scent of the autumn was much stronger today than yesterday and it tickled Talia’s nose. The Alpha and her mate ran together and at times bumping into one another playfully until they entered the house that held their small pack and family; the scent of coffee was welcoming to Talia while the mouthwatering scent of beacon had sausages had Thomas running into the kitchen eager to steal a few before the others awakened to the new day.

 

**~*~**

 

The Beacon Hills mall was not the usual scene for Thomas Hale to be in, Thomas had never cared much for spending a day at the mall he was a man of nature. He was not a slave to the materialistic temple where you could sacrifice your fortune on the unholy altar of GAP and many other shops. Thomas disliked the mall for various reasons he hated the noises and the smells it was all very distracting, there were always too many people around, the crowds gave great coverage for hunters and it wasn’t just hunters Thomas had to keep away; he had a human son, a boy that had already been abused and raped one time too many.

 

The mall was an unsafe place for his family and still it was a necessary evil as it was a place that could provide Derek and Stiles with what they’d need for the beginning of the school year. The sudden thought about sending Stiles back to Beacon Hills High School has Thomas feeling a completely new sense of dread, for humans were unpredictable creatures and in these times when school shootings were a horrible reality the thought of sending his very human son into halls and classrooms where any unhinged teen could start an act of incredible violence; Derek could take several bullets and survive them, but one careless or well-aimed bullet could render Stiles paralyzed from the neck-down or end his young but promising life.

 

`Talia,´ Thomas said as his mate handed him a few more bags to carry, `I think we should start considering homeschooling Stiles.´ Talia gave him that look that told him she questioned his sanity, which was a ridiculous thing to do considering how their other children had been homeschooled until they had full-control of their wolves.

 

`You’re joking right? You’re not seriously suggesting keeping him out of school because you can’t handle a little bit of shopping Thomas? ´ her voice held a hint of bemusement but also a hint of annoyance. Thomas couldn’t be sure if Talia’s unhappiness stemmed from him questioning the Alpha’s need to provide for their children or Thomas’s want to keep young Stiles away from a world where there were possible threats behind every corner.

 

Thomas glances over at the boy that had been born to others but was his none the less, Stiles was already walking out of the store laughing with Derek giving him and Talia some privacy, `Aren’t you afraid, aren’t you terrified that he might get hurt or killed or…´ Thomas started ranting but Talia cut him off with a gentle hand against his cheek.

 

`I’m petrified, ´ Talia admitted but there was a steadiness in her eyes that told him that Talia would not surrender to the fears inside her, `but Stiles _needs_ to be able to be a normal human boy Thomas.´ Of course Thomas knew his mate was right, of course he knew Stiles needed to live like other boy’s did, but the thought of simply risking Stiles life for something as foolish high school memories had Thomas’ skin crawl.

 

Thomas disliked humans; he disliked them all except for Stiles because he wasn’t just human Stiles was _his_ son which clearly made him above all other humans.

 

 `Stop fretting dear, Derek will be around to keep him safe.´ and with those words and a gentle kiss planted on Thomas thin lips, Talia Hale hurried off after Stiles leaving a slightly unhappy Thomas to grumbled out, `But he can’t be there all the time.´

 

**~*~**

 

Stiles was happy but exhausted, his feet were killing him as were the rest of the long limbs connected to his feet. Talia had dragged him and Derek from shop to shop, while Thomas ended up carrying everything Talia bought for them; Stiles felt uncomfortable about Talia and Thomas paying for all his new clothes and shoes, but the moment Stiles had tried to argue against their charity the Alpha couple both look him in the eye and told himthat even if they hadn’t adopted him he Genim “Stiles” Stilinski was their son and as his parents they would buy him everything he needed and then some; after that little talk during which Derek had scurried off to get sodas for him and Stiles, Talia became even more focused on finding Stiles everything she thought he needed

 

It felt strange to get things that weren’t on sale; it felt peculiar to have someone there to make sure all his clothes actually fit him, to have someone there and interested in making sure he found what he needed left Stiles feeling a bit odd;Stiles missed his mother greatly, he loved his mother with all his heart, but when he felt Talia guide him out of a shop where a handful of individuals started whispering about him and his dad Talia stepped in with a comforting hand squeezing his shoulder while she brushed a kiss against his temple before glaring at everyone murderously, that gesture of love and protection made him  wish that Talia Hale was his mother; of course such a wish did not come without consequence as later that night when Stiles recalled that little wish he broke down sobbing before he was struck by a panic attack that shook him to the bone, it took Talia and Thomas as well as an injection of Dr. Deaton’s elixir to calm Stiles down enough to regain control of his own breathing but even if he had seemingly calmed down Stiles was carried by Thomas into the Alpha couples bedroom where he slept that night cocooned by Talia and Thomas.

 

Talia was trying to drag Stiles and Derek to another store full of clothes when Thomas put an end to it, he had followed Talia around like Stiles and Derek did but when Stiles stomach suddenly growled Thomas hastened his step to catch up with his mate; Stiles had long ago noticed how Talia always walked at the front of them when they were out and about, Derek and Stiles were always expected to followed behind their Alpha and Derek was always expected to stay near Stiles unless he was granted a brief moment of freedom, and behind Stiles and Derek was Thomas.

 

`Talia, they’ve got enough clothes.´ Stiles heard Thomas say, voice calm, `they don’t need any more, unless they continue growing, and then and only then will you be allowed to drag our kids around the mall again. But for now, they’ve got everything they need Talia.´

 

`But…´ Talia begins but is silenced by Thomas who kisses her with all his might, then when he is sure her mind is clouded enough to allow him to speak he pulls away and informs her that their kids need to eat, and as if on cue Stiles stomach growls and that’s enough to switch Talia’s focus. Stiles blushes because the sound was far too loud to be ignored, Talia visibly snaps out of her “Need to dress my baby’s” state into another which is still one that allows her to provide for the her pack.

 

`Now what do you kids say about some curly fries?´ Talia asks with a beaming smile directed towards Stiles, who nods eagerly because Stiles loves curly fries, `Just don’t tell Abigail.´ she says looking around as if to make sure her mother wasn’t there to insure that the Alpha wouldn’t poison one Stiles Stilinski with unhealthy foods; Stiles may love Abigail but sometimes her excessive need to control Stiles eating habits did rub him the wrong way, especially when the oldest Hale harassed him about not eating enough.

 

Stiles promised he wouldn’t tell a soul, and he wouldn’t because he was getting some curly fries for his silence.

 

**~*~**

 

`So, we’ve still got to get your glasses Stiles before we head home.´ Talia said as she finished her third double-cheese burger, she hadn’t realized how hungry she was until they drove to the small diner that had been running since the early fifties; the diner was quaint and had the best double-cheese burgers in town. Talia watches Stiles who is happily eating his fries, and nodding at her words while handing Derek the ketchup bottle he hadn’t even asked for yet but which had probably been on his tongue; and Derek was stealing away the sliced tomatoes from Stiles burger because Stiles didn’t like tomatoes too much.  Although Stiles had bad days, days when he would be silent and withdrawn there were also days like these when the boy looked a lot like the child that had walked into Talia’s life smiling nervously before growing comfortable enough to show his true smile and nature to her and her pack. Seeing Stiles so comfortable and happy, eating with a smile on his face pleased both Talia and her wolf, it also pleased her to see how her two sons interacted with each other over meals; Talia had begun to noticed a few weeks ago how Derek and Stiles would sneak foods on and off each-others plates, she’d also noticed how Derek would finish the second glass of milk her mother insisted Stiles should drink after each meal and how Stiles would support Derek’s ketchup consumption by taking the bottle every time it was removed from Derek’s possession and dump the missing amount onto Derek’s plate.

 

`I’m still not sure if three pairs are enough.´ Talia says after taking a sip of her ice tee, watching how Derek handed Stiles a strip of beacon that wasn’t to his liking while the overly crispy piece was just right for Stiles taste.

 

`Probably not, considering we’re talking about Stiles.´ Derek laughs which has Stiles glaring at him, and as a form of revenge the human snatches a fistful of Derek’s fries and shoves them all into his mouth that had already been entertaining the crispy piece of beacon.

 

Talia loves her family like this all playful and loving, all relaxed and comfortable, the only thing that is amiss is the fact that Cora and Laura weren’t there with them.

 

Thomas took her hand into his, and she knew he saw the similarities between Stiles and Derek and Thomas’ brothers, they had both worried that Derek wouldn’t accept Stiles as part of the family and neither had imagined that Stiles and Derek would become so much like brothers within the short amount of time it had taken the two to morph into siblings; Talia felt incredibly proud of Derek because having the little brother of the girl Derek had loved so greatly could not be easy, but Derek was handling it all with such grace that Talia could never truly reveal to him the amount of respect she now felt towards her born son.

 


	51. Don’t You Worry Child

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There wasn’t much one could do about the rising sun, or the beginning of another school year.

 

 

There wasn’t much Stiles could do about the day arriving, there wasn’t much he could do to prevent the new school year from beginning, he couldn’t stop the night from ending or the sun from rising.Stiles had put up a good front about not being nervous or afraid of going back to school, he did this because he didn’t want to spend an extra hour talking with Dr. Greenberg about the source of his anxiety. Stiles first year as a high school student hadn’t been a pleasurable one as he had been bullied to the breaking point and not only that but Stiles had also lost his sister and been raped by a werewolf before the school year had ended. At the end of the school year Stiles had still a father to call his own, a father who might have been slightly abusive under the influence of alcohol but Stiles had a dad back then, while now he was an orphan living with a family he was not related to in any way or form. Everyone in Beacon Hills also were now aware about the abuse that had played out between father and son, and everyone knew that there hadn’t just been a few punches here and there because someone had leaked out the extent of the damage Alec Stilinski had done to his son before he had been arrested; the shame Stiles had felt had been nothing to the outrage and wrath Talia and Thomas showered over the local papers, there were legal proceedings afoot against those who had thoughtlessly published the details of the horrors Stiles had gone through they were also going after the Sheriff’s department and several other authorities that had been involved in the case of Stiles Stilinski. 

 

Stiles staid in bed although all he wanted to do was to run away and hide in the woods for all-eternity, he remained there under the covers and thought about everything that had been and what might be Stiles did this until the bedroom door opened and a familiar voice barked, `Time to get up kids.´ Abigail’s voice was loud and unwelcoming even in its cheerfulness.

 

Derek let out an unhappy groan from his bed while Stiles hisses as he moved too fast in an attempt to get out of bed; his movements caused the tightness of his skin on his back pull in a nasty sort of way. Derek’s up and out of bed in a flash hands reaching out to rest against Stiles back; this is something uncomfortably familiar by now, and Stiles feels emotionally numb by now to the shame he had and should still feel over these touches and the need for assistance. 

 

Stiles feels the aches vanishing from his back and hip and he can’t help the tiniest of moans escaping him, `You okay? ´ Derek ask the moment there wasn’t any more pain to leech away from Stiles’ healed but still broken body, his hand sliding up to the back of Stiles neck while looking into Stiles eyes as if searching for some sign that Stiles was either alright or not. 

 

`I’m fine.´ Stiles mumbles, avoiding eye contact with Derek not just because of the slight blush that creeps up on his cheeks at the attention and the gentle contact between their bodies, but because Stiles knows how excited Derek’s about going back to school and doesn’t want to rain on his parade or something. 

 

`Liar.´ Derek grumbles, `You’re not in pain, so what’s wrong? ´ 

 

`Nothing.´ Stiles whispers, but Derek raises one single eyebrow before calling him out on his bullshit, which pushes Stiles to confess that he doesn’t want to go back to school. Derek sits down next to Stiles one arm wrapped around Stiles shoulder and the free hand holding Stiles much smaller and lighter hand. 

 

`Stiles, I’ll be there all day with you.´ Derek tells him but a part of Stiles doesn’t believe him, because Derek is one of the cool kids and Stiles isn’t even cool enough to be considered part of the geeks, there’s no reason for Derek to hang around Stiles all day long, `I’ll take care of you Stiles. And if anyone gives you shit, you’ve got me to straighten those assholes out.´ Derek pulls Stiles in close and rests his head against Stiles beforesaying, `And trust me, I’ll make sure everyone knows not to touch you, okay?´ Stiles just nods, `Do you trust me?´ the question surprises Stiles, but he answers without hesitation, `Of course.´ 

 

Stiles can feel Derek smiling against the crown of his head, `Good. Because I’ll take care of you little brother.´ 

 

** ~*~ **

 

Talia could sense the mood of her mate shift from contentment and happiness to something much darker, the shift it didn’t surprise her, how could it when they had talked about this day for the past week; Thomas had been begging her to let Stiles stay home and be homeschooled and Talia had argued against Thomas’ wish. It wasn’t easy to live with the knowledge that what she thought was for the best was causing her mate such anguish, but she could not give into doubt when it came to trying to give Stiles a normal life as much as a child like Stiles could have living amongst werewolves. 

 

Talia wished that by the end of the day Thomas would come to realize that she was doing the right thing for their human son, that he would understand why this was necessary for the well-being of their young son; she could also only wish that Stiles would come to realize that what she was doing was for the best, the child might have put on a brave front but Talia had sensed the uneasiness inside of young Stiles and it saddened her greatly to know she was partly the cause of it.

 

Talia watches as her mate as he gets out of bed, sulking expression dark and angry as he glances at her a look Thomas has been sporting for the past two days. They don’t speak, which is uncommon, but Talia knows that Thomas needs this distance and silence for now; and once everything is settled he would come to her. She climbs out of bed and gets dressed while eyeing her mate, it has been days since she had been able to bask in his attention and affection and Talia wasn’t too proud to confess she missed Thomas’ affections. 

 

When Talia and Thomas slipped into the kitchen Stiles and Derek had already started eating their breakfast while Abigail was hovering around them making sure both boys had enough juice and toast; Abigail kept encouraging Stiles to eat his fruits and berries while chastising Derek for eating like a beast.Thomas is quick to put on a smile for Stiles and Derek; he was quick to grab his cup of coffee and sitting down next to Stiles.They had breakfast together and talked about what the plan of the day was; Derek was allowed to drive Stiles to school which was just another thing that was making Thomas nervous, they talked about how Stiles and Derek had to eat lunch together while also talking about how Stiles was expected to go and watch Derek’s basketball practice before the two would head on home for the day, it wasn’t a new conversation at all but it was one both Thomas and Talia needed to ease some of their own worries. 

 

`We know what to do.´ Derek said as he stood up and grabbed his and Stiles bags, `We’re not four mum, we can handle a few hours without being babied by you and dad.´ Derek taped Stiles on the shoulder as a signal for him to get a move on it; Stiles swallowed down his medication and the glass of milk. 

 

Talia’s stomach flipped and bucked when she realized her two pups were leaving, now that the moment had come she found herself strangely unwilling to depart from the human child, she hurried after her two younglings just as her mate and mother did; none of them paid much attention to Peter as he strolled down the stairs carrying a Cora who was at first smiling but then when she realized this was the day when she wouldn’t be seeing Stiles for hours her mood shifted as did the bones in her face as her wolf came, `TILES!´ Cora roared as she struggled against the hold of her uncle, `TILES NO GO!´ 

 

Talia had hopped Cora would have continued sleeping until both boys had left the house, but it seemed Cora had decided otherwise or perhaps it was Peter who wanted to make this morning even more of a hardship. Talia hurried out of the house with Thomas and the boys shooting a glare at Peter who gave his best impression of innocence. Stiles threw a quick goodbye to Cora, telling her to be a good girl but Cora was deaf to his words and started clawing at her uncle and snapping her razor-sharp fangs at Peter.

 

The morning air was fresh and a few degrees lower than the previous morning, autumn was indeed fast approaching and at any other moment Talia would have basked in the scent she loved so much, the stillness of the morning was lost due to the screams and roars of her youngest child and the wails of the infant upstairs.

 

As Talia watched Stiles and Derek prepare to leave her, a feeling of dread washed over her and she rushed over to Stiles who had been moving slowly than usual towards the black Camaro, before she knew it Talia Hale was sprinting towards Stiles and then Stiles was in her arms; at first Stiles was unresponsive but soon enough he returned the show of affection. 

 

`You stay close to Derek.´ Talia whispered into Stiles ear, the young boy accepting her advice with a short nod, `And if you feel like things are getting too much then you call Dr. Greenberg, and if that doesn’t help then you can call either me or Thomas and we’ll get you home in a flash, okay?´ Stiles gave another nod, and she tightened her hold of him because she was suddenly aware of how breakable Stiles could be; she had once been in high school and she couldn’t imagine the hierarchy and cruelty of teenagers had changed much from her days, and here she was sending her weakest child out for society to rip apart. 

 

`Mum, he’ll be fine. Stiles come on, we’ll be late.´ Derek shouted from the driver’s side of the car, looking at his mother like she deliberately making their departure difficult, which she perhaps was, Talia placed a tender kiss on Stiles’ forehead before encouraging him to get going. 

 

Talia moved to stand beside her mate who wrapped his arms around her waist and whispered into her ear as the car roared into life, `You’re worried.´ Talia laid her hands on Thomas’ and gave a stiff nod. 

 

** ~*~ **

 

The engine sang beautifully, so much so it felt almost a shame to have the music blaring and drowning out the sounds of the beautiful vehicle his father had made for him and him alone, Derek could feel every purr and roar of the engine which did lessen some of his unhappiness but the music was critical in trying to calm Stiles who reeked of fragile nerves.Derek did feel sorry for Stiles, he really did even if he couldn’t really understand why Stiles wasn’t as excited about going back to school considering how Stiles intelligence should make each and every class a walk in the park for him; Derek on the other hand would struggle through some of the classes and would probably need Stiles help to get through most of them, but at least Derek was the new captain Beacon Hills High Schools very own Basketball team.

 

Derek glanced over at Stiles who had been silent since he’d taken a seat inside the car, Stiles’ left leg kept bouncing in a very nervous fashion and the long slender fingers of the right hand kept digging into the thigh of the leg that was unmoving, Stiles is turned away from Derek so that the werewolf can’t see his face or the expression the younger male might be sporting; all Derek has to go by are the restless movements of the much lighter body and the sickening stench of Stiles nerves that had been present for days. 

 

The closer to Beacon Hills High School they get the stronger the stench of uncertainty and fear becomes. The ungraceful and somewhat irritating movements that have been expressing Stiles anxiety well spread through the body. Fearing that Stiles might have a panic attack at any given moment has Derek pulling the car to the side of the road; they could see the high school up the road. Stiles doesn’t react at all to the sudden stop, it’s only when Derek calls out to him and reaches out grab a firm hold of Stiles hand; the human jolts from his thoughts and stares at Derek with confusion in his eyes, Stiles looks so very lost and it makes Derek feel like he should call his mother or just Dr. Greenberg. 

 

`Why’d we s-s-stop?´ Stiles asks looking around, cars keep passing them by and a few people on bikes and a group of four on skateboards, `Aren’t w-we g-going to be l-l-late?´ 

 

`You alright?´ Derek knows it’s a stupid question, he knows Stiles isn’t alright, he can smell it and yet with that knowledge Derek has to ask the foolish question, `You got a bit lost inside your head. Do we need to call Dr. Greenberg, or mum?´ Stiles shakes his head, and tries to put up a smiles but it is a fragile and weak creation like the ones Stiles had forced himself to create after getting out of the hospital after each assault made to his person. 

 

The boy next to him looks up the road towards the building demanding for both of them to arrive to its chambers of knowledge, then Stiles looks at Derek and says with a nervous but determined voice, `We s-s-should get g-g-going or w-w-we’ll be l-l-late.´ 

 


	52. Back to School

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> High School never really changed, students just did, it was all very dull in Gerald’s opinion as he stood by the window of his classroom waiting to catch the first glimpse of his prey; for what seemed like nine months his only sight of the boy had been through pictures, and that wasn’t enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea really why I had Cora do this, there aren’t any notes on the napkin to explain why I had her in this chapter…. so don’t ask me why, okay?

 

Gerald watched as the herd of useless minds flooded the grounds of the high school it was a sure sign that summer was over, the youths of Beacon Hills were still under the delusion that high school would be the best time of their pathetic and none important lives of course Gerald was more than happy to help break the spell the teenagers were in.Watching the youths that moved over the grounds laughing and smiling, Gerald could not comprehend the fashion choices of today’s young souls; he dreaded what the future would bring forth when it lay in the hands of those he now watched with distain.  

 

The sight of the familiar black Camaro brings all of his critical thoughts about his students to an abrupt end and all the hunter can focus on is that pretentious vehicle, he watches as Derek Hale parked his overly flashy car in between two very old and battered cars; Gerald watches as the teenager gets out of the car that shouldn’t be driven by a sixteen-year old kid even if it was a sixteen-year old werewolf. It wasn’t the sight of young master Hale that had Gerald’s heart racing, the one that had Gerald’s heartbeat picking up speed was the sight of Genim Stilinski.

 

Gerald may hate, loathe, the Hale’s but seeing young Stilinski now forces the hunter to admit that the pack of beasts had done some good, they had managed to undo the damage the boy had done to himself as well as the horrific damage Alec Stilinski had caused his son during the momentary lapse of good judgment. It was not easy to admit the good deed the werewolves had done even when it pleased Gerald to see the boy looking healthy and no longer appearing as someone near deaths door.

 

Regardless of the good the family of unholy beasts had done, Gerald could not ignore the threat they imposed to the human race, he had no other choice than to remove them before their true nature rose and the slaughter of the people of Beacon Hills would begin; it was his duty as a Hunter to remove such unholy creatures from God’s green earth, and if removing the Hale-pack granted Gerald with guardianship of Genim Stilinski then so be it.

 

Gerald watched as the werewolf threw his arm over the shoulder of the boy that would soon join the family of hunters, Derek Hale pulled the Stilinski boy closer to him as he steered the both of them into the building where Gerald and Kate would be waiting for them. The moment Genim Stilinski was out of Gerald’s line of sight the teacher turned his gaze towards his daughter who was sitting on his desk; she appeared uninterested in everything but the shape of her fingernails.

 

`There here.´ Gerald said with a voice cold and clinical a voice he would never use on his students.

 

Although Kate seemed disinterested in the whole scheme of things Gerald knew not to trust what his eyes were telling him when it came to his only daughter, for Kate was skilled in manipulation and she could easily fool the wisest of men.

 

When Kate had been born Gerald hadn’t been impressed or pleased with his wife, a daughter had been in his mind a burden and not a blessing, but his little girl quickly proved him wrong by showing such ruthlessness towards her own brother that had his wife convinced that Kate lacked something fundamentally human; when Kate had killed her cat Gerald had known from then on that Kate had what it took to become head of the family.

 

Kate stands from where she had been seated, her hands pushing down the skirt that was just barely of respectable length. Gerald watched his daughter with a great deal of interest as she focused her attention and will on softening up the overall appearance of her face; Kate was a beautiful woman in a deadly sort of way, there was no softness or innocence in her appearance unless she should wished it, she was a predator always ready to hunt and kill. Gerald’s daughter was a destroyer by nature and he loved her for it. Watching the slow process of removing those pesky signs that were carved into her normal appearance drift away, Gerald wondered how he had raised such a clever girl. Watching as all signs pointing to Kate’s devious nature and the ruthlessness slip away while something softer and gentle seeped in, had Gerald wondering the amount of devastation Kate could cause if there was no one to keep her under control.

 

 Slowly that which had warned people to the lethal female Gerald’s Kate was vanished leaving behind a Kate no one who knew her could recognize, Gerald knew in the back of his mind that he should fear this strange and deadly trait of his daughter but he simply admired her ability to morph into any role he gave her.

 

`See you around daddy.´ Kate said with a voice soft and sweet before walking out of his classroom, everything about her now was unfamiliar to him and he had a great deal of hope that the young Hale Kate had her eyes on would never see the danger before it was too late.

 

**~*~**

 

`Stiles! ´ the loudness of the voice startled him enough to have him flail and before Stiles knew it there was Heather hugging him like they had been good friends separated by many moons, it took Stiles awhile before he could actually respond to the hug and when he did Stiles felt incredibly awkward; it didn’t feel tight at all, it felt uncomfortable and all he wanted was for the moment to end. Even Derek looks a bit awkward where he’s standing next to Stiles, stuffing Stiles bag into his own locker even if Stiles’ locker is right next to him; Talia had pulled a few strings to secure these two lockers for her the two of them. The moment Heather separates herself from Stiles who attempts to ignore the annoyance springing forth within him when he sees the pity in Heather’s eyes when she takes in his over-all appearance.

 

`You look good. You’re eating?´ Heather talks in a nervous fashion that didn’t fit well on her tongue which only proved Stiles suspicions; Heather was incredibly uncomfortable around Stiles, but she was trying to play nice because of Paige, `The Hale’s, their taking good care of you? I’m sorry for not calling or coming to see you, I was just…´ the bell rang, startling both humans it was a blessing as the conversation was as flammable as a dry grass soaked in lighter fluids.

 

`It w-was nice s-s-seeing you Heather,´ Stiles said with a voice almost unfamiliar by the coldness it held, his voice hadn’t been so emotionless in a very long time, `I n-n-need to g-get to c-c-class.´ Stiles tries to give Heather a quick smile but he just can’t muster enough conviction to make it into an actual smile.

 

`Are you alright little brother? ´ Derek asks as they walk to their first class, Stiles nods although he really isn’t fine because he feels the eyes on him and he has heard the whispers that started the moment he and Derek had stepped out of the Camaro, Stiles isn’t deaf nor is he dumb he can hear words here and there about him and his dad; and so does Derek by the glares the werewolf shooting at everyone and the protective arm that is flung over Stiles shoulder.  

 

The rest of the day moves on painfully slow, Stiles could imagine a snail moving much faster than the day did; constant whispers about him and his dad torment Stiles through the day and regardless of how hard Derek glares or shoves people around or threatens them they still continue on whispering about what had happened to him.Mr. Argent shows just a bit too much attention towards Stiles, but there is no pity in the wise old eyes that hold a cleverness that leaves Stiles feeling nervous; and from what Stiles can tell Derek does not appreciate the attention their French teacher is showing Stiles. Their new English teacher is one Kate Blake who shows Derek and a few others a surprising amount of attention she however does ignore Stiles for the most part. When lunch time rolls in Stiles is starving Abigail’s constant need to make sure Stiles has something to eat has now backfired because he’s starving, Stiles and Derek walk over to their lockers to grab the little treats Abigail had made for them to eat after lunch as they walk Derek keeps talking about the list of books they are expected to finish reading before the end of the term, Stiles doesn’t have the heart to tell Derek he’s already read all but one of the books.

 

They are nearly there by their locker when the sound of a little girl screaming excitedly reaches them, `Tiles! Tiles! ´  

 

When Derek and Stiles turn around to look towards the voice, they moved like a unit which had become the norm between the two after spending days and days together. A dirty little Cora Hale comes running towards them with a wide smile on her face, Derek makes a sound like he’s just swallowed his tongue, within what feels like the passing of five seconds Cora is right there and throwing her arms around Stiles legs and letting out a content little sigh while rubbing her messy little cheek against Stiles knees.

 

`Are w-we going to be in t-t-trouble for this or is it j-just going to be C-C-Cora?´ Stiles has to ask as he reaches down to unwrap Cora from his legs, there are now muddy stains covering his the pants that had but a moment ago been all clean a nice. When Cora tried to wrap herself back around Stiles’ legs he picked her up, having a little girl latched to his legs didn’t feel right or proper. Cora wrapped her arms around Stiles neck so tightly he had to tell her to go easy on him, it was clear that the little she-wolf wasn’t about to let him go when she had finally tacked him down; the image of little Cora running around like a cute little bloodhound really shouldn’t be such a bemusing thought considering Talia’s reaction.

 

`Tiles.´ Cora purrs as she nuzzles his neck, `Found you. I found Tiles.´

 

`I’ll call mum.´ Derek grumbles before adding, `Take her outside she’s drawing way too much attention.´ Then he grumbles out with a low angry voice, `This is so humiliating.´ The little werewolf in Stiles arms pauses scenting Stiles to shoot a murderous glare at her older brother before sticking out her tongue and making a face that was most definitely not meant to look as adorable as it did; once Cora has expressed her displeasure in her big brother she returns her attention to Stiles, attempting to cover Stiles with her own scent.

 

While Derek hurried off to call Talia from a location less crowded and noisy, Stiles grabs the Ironman lunchbox Abigail had packed for him and hurried off out of the building where new whispers involving him had started, he decided to take Cora to the field that was used for everything between Lacrosse and Field Hockey. They settled on the green ground and Cora curled up in his lap while Stiles took a look into the lunchbox. 

 

`W-w-want a c-cookie Cora?´ Stiles asks and hands Cora one of cookies coated in chocolate, the little girl nods and snatches it before settling back into the same spot as before resting her head against Stiles heart. The little girl sighs happily and starts munching on her cookie.

 

`You shouldn’t feed the animal or it’ll think this is okay.´ Derek growls as he sits down next to Stiles and Cora, glaring at his little sister who is munching at her cookie and breathing in Stiles scent, and still Derek has brought Cora milk while he’s brought himself and Stiles sodas; Stiles can’t help but smile at Derek because he is one great big softy when it came to his little sister.

 

`So a-are we in t-t-trouble because of this, or is it just Cora? What’s the d-d-damage? ´ Stiles asks as he grabs the container of grapes and starts eating them. Derek shrugs his shoulders and snatches a few grapes before dropping down on the ground like it was his own bed back home in the Hale house, a heavy hearted sigh escapes him before Derek finally has enough strength to answer Stiles, `I honestly don’t know, but what I can tell you is that mum wasn’t happy.´

 

`Like g-gr-growling unhappy or just p-p-plain “I c-c-can’t b-believe t-this” unhappy?´ Stiles asks while holding the tiny little milk carton for Cora who was slowly sipping milk from it Stiles took great care at making sure Cora got the milk into her mouth and not all over the herself which was strange considering how her dress was covered in mud and torn here and there. 

 

`Growling.´ Derek says while popping one of the grapes in his mouth frowning.

 

Even if Stiles wasn’t a werewolf he could still sense that the situation with Cora and Derek’s mother was making the teen wolf nervous and if Derek was nervous then so was Stiles. Stiles is so nervous that he can’t eat, he can’t drink and there is that horrible and forbidden itch beneath his skin that demands him to find something sharp to run across his skin until he would bleed; this itch races with his blood and the loud thumping of his heart, it has been so long since Stiles had last cut because everyone has been keeping an eye on him making sure he didn’t harm himself in shape or form.

 

The three of them stay like that with Derek flat on his back and Cora in Stiles lap while Stiles staid watching over both of them slipping more grapes into Derek’s waiting hand and feeding Cora cookies and milk; they were like that until a familiar voice breaks them out of their seemingly peaceful state. Talia’s voice is low and growling, as she calls out to all three of them.

 

Derek is up and off of the ground in seconds before helping Stiles up as well, Stiles who was still holding Cora who starts to whimper when she sees the anger flash across Talia’s stone cold features. Talia doesn’t look the slightest bit pleased to see Cora and Stiles feels and overwhelming need to defend her even if he has no way of doing it; he does however holds her the slightest bit tighter and hopes that it will be enough to give the little girl the courage needed to face her angry mother. And Talia is indeed angry, her voice and the way she carries herself speaks of it, she doesn’t give Cora hell right there and then she simply walks over to Stiles and takes a slightly reluctant Cora before apologizing to both Derek and Stiles she also makes Cora apologize for the trouble she had caused both of her brothers; hearing Talia still refer to Stiles as Cora’s and Derek’s brother floods Stiles with a strange sense of belonging.

 

Talia leaves with a whimpering and whining Cora Hale in her arms just as the bell rings calling Derek and Stiles to class, none of the Hale’s nor Stiles knew at that moment that for next week and three schooldays Cora Hale kept turning up at Beacon Hills High School searching for her Tiles.

 


	53. I, You, They

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Family meant everything to Thomas just like it did for his mate, he loved his mate and children; and he could not stand to see them hurt. He would defend and protect his family till the day he died.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We’re getting closer and closer to the deaths of the Hale’s and it’s bringing me down oh so down in spirits. And having to write about Stiles being bullied yet again just makes me sick, brings back too many uncomfortable memories which I still refuse to deal with; at least I was never dumped in dumpster, but still I’ve got issues that could be wrapped around the world four times.

 

 

Stiles was angry, pissed off, exhausted and hurt. Of course he had known this would happen eventually, it always did. Derek had been playing the big brother role much longer than what Stiles had anticipated and he was grateful for the time Derek had spent caring for him and protecting him, he still however felt betrayed by Derek who was back to being the golden boy of Beacon Hills High School. With Derek returning to his “roots” left Stiles alone to deal with all those people who saw it fit to treat him like the worthless piece of shit Stiles Stilinski knew himself to be. Bitter tears began to fall as Stiles struggled out of the dumpster at the back of the school, he hadn’t cried during the beating and he hadn’t cried when he was hoisted up off of the ground and tossed amongst the trash, but now after laying there amongst the waste listening and making sure he was truly alone the tears began to fall. 

 

Although Stiles was sure they had finished with him for the day he decided it would be best to test the waters by throwing his backpack out first before dragging his own worthless ass out of the dumpster, when hearing no movements or snickering from the outside of the smelly environment he had been placed in Stiles climbed awkwardly out of the dumpster only to fall ungracefully onto the ground scraping his hands and his left arm pretty badly before hitting his head against the side of the dumpster getting several blue paint-chips in his hair. 

 

Stiles gives himself a moment on the ground, just staying there on his back next to the smelly dumpster or perhaps it was just him smelling, he breathes in and out until the dizziness passes until his stomach stops churning; he sits up slowly and wipes away the blood that is still leaking out of his nose with the sleeve of his jacket, he regrets doing it the moment the large stain catches his eye there was no way he could explain a missing jacket to Talia. 

 

Stiles sits there for a moment as he wonders how he will explain all of this to Thomas and Talia without landing Derek in hot-water. He could easily get rid of the bloody shirts and jeans, but a jacket wouldn’t be that easy and not to mention the markings left on his face from the beating. Stiles even contemplates for a moment about just running away and leaving Beacon Hills for good, but he knows Thomas could track him down easily especially when even someone as young as Cora could track him to school; and where would he go, he had no family or friends outside of Beacon Hills that could help him out. Stiles abandons the idea of running away as quickly as it had been born. 

 

The beating was his own fault, Stiles should have just ignored the notes and post-it’s like he had done for the past few weeks, but when the usual notes that suggested that Stiles had actually enjoyed being raped and beaten by his dad turned more sinister he couldn’t just ignore them; when the words scribbled on pieces of paper started suggesting that Stiles was fucking around with every member of the Hales that was the final straw that broke the camel’s back. And so when the stupid jocks rounded on him while he was making his way towards the library after getting a hasty and somewhat shady message from Derek telling him he was going to skip practices and go out with his “girl”, and when those dimwitted assholes started talking about Thomas’ dick inside of Stiles and other disrespectful things Stiles had just snapped and punched the teenager who was part of the Beacon Hills Lacrosse team and after that it didn’t take long before Stiles was beaten and bloody and dumped amongst all the trash and waste that came from the school. It was his fault and he couldn’t even imagine how angry Thomas and Talia would be with him, he almost started sobbing when he imagined all the looks of disappointment they would give him and the cold shoulder Abigail would give him from now on when they’d learn what a screw-up he was. 

 

With tears in his eyes Stiles began to limp his way away from the school, he couldn’t go into the library smelling the way he did or looking the way he did; it would draw too much attention and Stiles wasn’t up for any more attention that day. 

 

The first part of the journey home was occupied by thoughts of self-loathing, but when he reached the Preserve and started to make his way down one of the narrow paths his thoughts turned angry and bitter; tears of sadness changed to those of rage, his hatred was now directed towards Beacon Hills High School and the kids there that see him as nothing more than the orphaned kid who was raped by his alcoholic father who had gone all psychotic one evening not too long ago. 

 

Stiles wished someone else at school was being tormented as much as he was, he wished this other person would bring a gun to school the following day and just kill off all the assholes or at least put a bullet through Stiles head because life just sucked. 

 

** ~*~ **

 

Home alone with the unhappy fruit of his loins was driving Peter up the wall, the child was useless and not to mention incredibly uninspiring. With everyone out of the house Peter was left to entertain himself which was rather difficult considering how there was nothing that could entertain him when there were no others around, he did not care for being left alone with the child Martha and he had created; he could easily have done without either one. 

 

While ever so slightly sulking over the miserable fate of his life, glaring murderously at the infant on the sheepskin-rug, a familiar heartbeat stole away his attention from the little bundle of suffering. 

 

Peter could and would recognize that beat even in a club full of people surrounded by loud beats of bass, it was a sound engraved into his memory like the voice that belonged in the same instrument that held the heart that gave off such a lovely beat. Peter closed his eyes and continued to listen to the heart that lulled him to sleep at night. 

 

Realization like a bolt of lightning hit Peter the closer the beat came to where he was dwelling, he lacking sound of a car and the lack of a werewolf’s heartbeat to accompany the precious thumping sound of Stiles’ heart was unexpected and somewhat worrisome to Peter. The closer the peculiar heartbeat came to the house the more anxious Peter became. The lack of Derek and the rapid thump-thump-thumping of the young heart had Peter up and out of his chair in seconds, his sudden motion nearly caused him to drop the laptop he had been playing around with for the past hour to the floor, he tilted his head in wonder when he realized Stiles wasn’t walking up the road to the house but through the back of the Hale-property; the boy had chosen to take to the narrow and somewhat treacherous paths instead of the much safer and surer way of the road. Peter hurried into the kitchen knowing that Stiles was taking the kitchen as his entryway instead of the front of the house, knowing the boy did this in an obvious attempt to hide his arrival and something else as well. 

 

Even before the door opened the sweet scent of blood and the salty scent of tears accompanied by the acrid scent of bitterness and anger had Peter on edge, it took everything within Peter not to rush to the door and pull it wide open and look over at the boy, it took all of his inner strength to remain by the doorway waiting for Stiles and while waiting Peter made excuses for the scent of blood and tears; he told himself that the smells coming off of Stiles were due to the teenagers inability to walk without stumbling. Peter had almost managed to fool himself into believing that the blood and tears came from Stiles simply stumbling and falling in the woods and nothing more but all hopes of the lack of coordination of the wonderful limbs being the causes of the unhappiness of young Stiles Stilinski were eradicated the moment Peter’s eyes caught sight of the human.

 

Within seconds of laying his eyes on a tearful Stiles Peter was right there in Stiles personal space reaching out to touch the broken skin on the beautiful cheekbone; the scent of old garbage hit his sensitive nose and Peter knew what had happened. 

 

`Who did this? ´ Peter asks, no he demands to know with an almost feral growl. Peter ignored the ever growing stench of fear that had surged forth the moment the boy had seen the future Alpha of the Hale pack. When Stiles tried to move away from him, tried to escape, Peter blocked the way by backing Stiles against the large fridge, the heartbeat beneath the pale skin picks-up and the stench of fear becomes nauseatingly potent but regardless of all that Peter is beyond determined to get the name of the evil-little-shit who had dared to hurt a member of his pack. 

 

`Who did this?´Peter asks with a bit more weight behind each word allowing his eyes to glow amber, he needs the answer because this crime against Stiles could not go unpunished; Stiles was pack and family, Stiles belonged to Peter now and no one could harm what belonged to him without being severely punished. 

 

When Peter demanded the answer for the third time the rhythm of the heart beneath the skin Peter had once marked with such lust and eagerness that had never been part of his nature, the beat was erratic and far too quick. It was clear that Stiles was absolutely terrified of him and that didn’t sit well with Peter. 

 

Martha feared him, so much so that she barely slept at night due to the fear she had of being killed in her sleep. Peter knew it should bother him that his mate feared him as much as Martha did, but then again he didn’t care much for Martha but Stiles was a different thing; he wanted Stiles to trust him once more, they were family and pack, they could never be separated from one another now and there was no place for fear between the two of them especially if and when Peter became the Alpha. 

 

`Who did this Stiles?´ Peter asks voice softer and gentler than before, his hands gently touching the skin he had once worshipped. The fear kept on growing and Peter couldn’t help but whimper neither he nor his wolf could understand the amount of fear Stiles felt towards them, this fear was wrong and disgusting and it would be harmful once Peter became the Alpha. 

 

`J-j-just s-s-s-some j-j-jocks.´ Stiles stutters avoiding lookingstraight at Peter which in itself was nothing new, but for some reason today it bothered him more than it had done yesterday. 

 

`Jocks, as in more than one?´ Peter can barely keep his voice from trembling with the rage surging forth at the thought that more than just one person had laid their filthy hands on something that belonged to him. He breathes in the scents that have nearly drowned out the scent of pack and family, there are too many different scents attached to Stiles and it has Peter growling and flashing his amber eyes at Stiles who had made a move in an attempt to get away from Peter, the boy stops trying to get away and starts instead to tremble. Peter is growing more and more frustrated with himself, his inability to find the smell of the ones that had harmed what was his; and Stiles reaction to him did not help Peter’s mood. 

 

But before Peter gets a word out and before Peter gets a chance to snuff-out the fear and calm the boy, there is a clawed hand around his throat and another digging into his shoulder; and Peter is suddenly infected with the same amount of fear Stiles had been possessed with since he’d been caught by Peter. 

 

`Thomas.´ Peter chokes out.

 

** ~*~ **

 

Gerald Argent had always disproved of humans associating with werewolves, he had more than once been involved in executing humans who dared to soil their own bloodlines with that of werewolves; at times he had even gone to such lengths as beheading the offspring’s of a human and a werewolf in front of the human parent just to make the punishment much sweeter. And yet there he was watching his only daughter behave in the very way that had caused Gerald to spill the blood of his own kind. But this time the great hunter could forgive the disgusting behavior for it served a greater purpose. 

 

It had taken a surprising amount of time for Kate to get the beast under her, Gerald had nearly lost faith in Kate but then it happened; it started with a message from Derek asking Kate if they could talk. 

 

Watching Kate and Derek making their way to the building that was for now housing Kate, Gerald smiled because the pup was looking up at Kate like she was a great goddess. Once Kate had the young Hale on her hook things began to move forward in a way Gerald appreciated. 

 

Gerald knew that the longer young Genim Stilinski remained in the care of the Hale’s the more damage would be done to his psyche; the creatures were slowly corrupting the boy. There was also the risk of the Alpha choosing to give the bite to the boy, and the prospect of Genim becoming a werewolf was a greatly unwanted one and the thought had the hunter on edge as he had no desires to put the boy down and that would be a waste. 

 

Gerald knew that once he had Genim in his care, which would come to be soon enough if Kate continued working her magic on the beast she had been seducing for weeks, it would take time and a lot of effort on Gerald’s part to mend the shattered boy; but Gerald was sure he could do it, and he would do it. 

 

** ~*~ **

 

While driving towards his house Thomas Hale found himself hoping that his human-son would love the Jeep as much as he did, especially considering how Thomas already spent more hours on the Jeep than what he had done on either one of the Camaros; and there was still a lot of work to be done before he could present it to Stiles and start teaching him how to driver properly. Of course Thomas had allowed Stiles to drive up and down the road to the house when the two were alone and Talia couldn’t catch them, it was something he had done with Laura and Derek before either one had reached the age of getting their driver’s license.

 

Thomas preferred to be home when Stiles and Derek came back from school, he liked having a snack with the two of them and pretend to be helping them with their homework; Stiles didn’t need help unless you called Thomas making sure he had enough to drink and eat helping, and it was Stiles who helped Derek with his homework so Thomas wasn’t really of any use to either one of his kids. But regardless of his usefulness or uselessness Thomas wanted to be there to welcome his boy’s home. 

 

Thomas hadn’t even parked his car when the distressed heartbeat of Stiles assaulted his ears.Thomas was out of the car in seconds and bolting into the house hell-bent on finding out what was going on; demanding to know what had his pup so afraid in his own home. He tracked the unwelcomed sound to the kitchen and the moment he caught sight of Peter touching _his_ child who was visibly afraid and in distress was all it took for Thomas to lose control of his wolf.

 

There was nothing else on his mind than protecting his pup as he lunged at Peter Hale his brother-in-law who had already molested Thomas’ human-son once; the though fueled his rage enough so that Thomas didn’t care that he threw Peter through the kitchen window or that Thomas followed after him within seconds swiping his claws across the back of the Beta.Thomas kicks and claws at the monster, Thomas swipes his bloody claws over the body that shared the same DNA as his mate with such vengeance that Thomas knows in the back of his mind that he is only inches away of going completely feral; but it doesn’t matter as all he cares about is killing Peter and dumping his carcass out in the middle of the Preserve so that all the wildlife could do as they wished with the unworthy remains of the creature. 

 

`THOMAS! ´ someone screams but Thomas can’t make himself recognize the voice or grasp at it, all he desires now is to skin Peter alive and leave him to try and heal from it before he would snap each and every tendon in the body that had played a part in harming Stiles, he wanted Peter to suffer and if Thomas could have used wolfsbane he would have happily played around with it. Thomas wanted Peter to suffer beyond reason; he wanted the beast to die from agony and nothing else. 

 

` **DAD**! ´ 

 

Thomas stopped what he was doing the second the word Stiles had used, Thomas turned his head to look at the boy who was standing by the back door to the house looking incredibly nervous and there was a look of shock. Thomas had a strong feeling those unwanted emotions were born from the word Stiles had used to grab Thomas’ attention; it was a small and simple word, but it was a word Thomas had wished to one day hear his “adopted pup” to use but had never thought he would. Thomas dropped the worthless creature he had been holding, he stares at Stiles for a moment the silence and perhaps the stillness of the moment triggers Stiles to start apologizing profusely for the word he had use, the way Stiles made it sound it was as if the boy had called Thomas something disgusting and insulting.

 

`Don’t. ´ Thomas pleads as he moves away from Peter who is struggling to breathe, `Don’t apologize.´ Thomas reaches out to the boy who still looks mortified by what he had just said, the claws are long gone but the blood of Peter still cover Thomas’ hands but none of it matters as Thomas pulls Stiles into a tight embrace the word of father whispering in the ear of the werewolf like a pleasant song. Stiles wrapped his bony little arms around him and Thomas felt like he could stay like that forever holding his son, but he knew he couldn’t because Thomas had to deal with Peter. Thomas had seen the bruised face and he had smelt the fear and the hurt clinging to Stiles, Thomas had to deal with Peter or he might as well just change his name into Alec Stilinski right now; he had to protect and defend his young son.

 

Releasing Stiles from his hold Thomas said with his most paternal and dominant voice he could muster when it came to his youngest son, ` Get back in the house son. I’ll be there soon to take care of those cuts and bruises.´ with a gentle squeeze of Stiles shoulder and eyes locked on those beautiful ones Stiles seemed to share with his biological mother, Thomas continued to say with just a hint of a growl, `I just need to take care of the trash.´ 

 

Peter started to crawl away as best he could with a broken arm and a leg that was twisted in a very unnatural fashion. Crawling away from Thomas was just a waste of energy and strength as Thomas would catch the Ephebophilia-bastard-of-a-brother-in-law in matter of seconds.Thomas was about to pull away from Stiles when the boy grabbed a hold his leather jacket and held on for dear-life before finally speaking out in rushed sort of way, it was as if Stiles thought Thomas wouldn’t listen to him long enough for the message to be released off of his young tongue which in all honesty was ridiculous as Thomas would always strive to listen to his youngest son. 

 

`He didn’t do anything.´ the words stunned Thomas and if Stiles had given him the time he would have argued against the claim, `he was just trying to get me to tell him who did this,´ Stiles raised his hand gestured at the damage done to his beautiful face, Thomas couldn’t understand why people were so eager to cause damage to Stiles’ fine features, ` You shouldn’t hurt him for this.´ Thomas wanted to hear that little sound, that little skip of a beat that would tell him Stiles was lying; Thomas wanted Peter to be guilty so he could finally destroy Peter like he’d wanted since the unblessed relationship between Peter and Stiles had come to light. 

 

Stiles’ words were unwanted truths, but truths none the less and so Thomas has no other option than to let go of his desire to maim and kill Peter Hale, he has to focus on his son and make things better for him. He needs to know the names of those who had dared to harm his son, and Thomas wants their heads on spikes for all to see what would come to be for those who would dare to harm his younglings. 

 

Thomas also needed to know where the hell his oldest son had been during all of this. 

 

** ~*~ **

 

Derek knew something had to have been up for Stiles to head on home on foot even after Derek had asked him to stay at the library until his date with Kate was over, if everything would have been fine then Stiles could have easily spent two hours and twenty minutes at the library. Derek had however been in a blissful state that made any proper way of thinking impossible as he drove away from Kate’s apartment, but the moment he stepped inside the house his family home, he knew something was up not only from the scent of slowly healing wounds and the unpleasant stench of the ointment that was only ever used on Stiles but also by the look a battered Peter Hale gave him it was a strange look of resentment and anger. Then there was the sharpness of Peter’s voice as he asked Derek, ` Where were you?´ but before Derek could ask his uncle what he was on about the loud demanding voice of his father boomed through the house and demanding Derek into the kitchen while Peter moved slowly and stiffly upstairs shooting another burning glare at him. 

 

With uneasy steps Derek made his way into the kitchen where he found his father emptying the dishwasher, from the way his father was handling the dishes Derek knew something was indeed amiss. Derek stood nervously in the middle of the kitchen that was bathing in the evening sun, the golden light throwing curious shadows all around. He could hear the furious beat of his father’s heart as well as the sound of several cars driving up the road. 

 

`Where were you while you little brother got a beating?´ the question shocks Derek who had no idea how to respond, he’d promised Kate not to tell anyone that he was seeing her; her future in education would be in danger if anyone caught on to their relationship, their love could cause Kate to be thrown in jail for statutory rape if it were to come to light now, and Derek would do anything to protect the one he loved and the one to whom he had given his virginity too just hours ago. The thought of Kate and what they had done not too long ago made Derek feel incredibly nervous as he wasn’t all too sure that his father couldn’t smell Kate on him; Derek had taken a shower at Kate’s but he wasn’t sure it would be enough to hide the smell of escapade. 

 

Derek loved Kate. And Kate loved him. Derek couldn’t allow anyone come between him and her. 

 

`Out with your girlfriend were you?´ his father asked with a voice cold and harsh, even his father’s eyes were showing off the anger that was suddenly raging inside of his father who usually did not show such open resentment towards people unless there indeed was a good reason for it. 

 

`While you were on your little date Stiles got a beating.´ the words are harsh and Derek feels himself shrink under the angry gaze of his father, Derek does feel the guilt from leaving Stiles alone to be attacked by people who were as good as monster. But Derek also felt this strange anger that however behind his guilt because Derek was just a teenager and he wanted to be able to live like one, he wanted to live like one without having to feel guilty about it. How could he have foreseen the attack on his little brother? It wasn’t right to place all the blame on him and Kate. 

 

`You’ve been on a date?´ the sound of his mother’s voice, a voice more curious than angry had both him and his father nearly jumping out of their skins, they had forget about the cars coming up the drive. Derek watches his mother place several bags of groceries on the kitchen island; she looked rather amused by their reaction. 

 

`Date? What date and who? ´ Abigail asks as she walks into the kitchen carrying an impatient looking Cora who starts to wiggle in her grandmothers arms until the oldest Hale gets the idea and sets her down on the floor, as soon as Cora is on the floor she bolts out of the kitchen; everyone knew why Cora was so eager to leave the kitchen, they had all seen how her eyes had been searching for some sign of Stiles in the kitchen. 

 

`And what’s this about Stiles getting a beating.´ his mother asks while she and Abigail begin to unpack the goods they had bought, although she is calm now Derek knows she’ll be livid in a moment especially as neither he nor his father answer immediately, `Well, is one of you two going to tell me what’s going on? ´ the crimson colored eyes looked at Derek demanding answers he was less than willing to give. 

 

Derek hated those crimson eyes the demand of obedience they held and the way they reminded him of what little power he had when it came to himself and his future or at least his future with Kate; if his mother disliked or distrusted Kate she could use her Alpha-power to make him give Kate.

 

`While our son was out on a date with some girl, Stiles was beaten to the ground and dumped amongst the trash.´ Derek couldn’t help but cringe at the harshness of his father’s voice. 

 

`Who attacked him?´ his mother asked, Derek was thankful his mother wasn’t demanding to know who had taken Derek’s attention away from Stiles long enough to allow harm to come to Stiles who had become part of their small family. Although Derek did not regret choosing to sleep with Kate instead of keeping Stiles safe, he still wanted the names of the one who had dared to attack his little brother; he wanted the names as much as his mother did. 

 

His dad was quick to give the names of three seniors and two juniors at Beacon Hills High School, hearing all those names had both Derek and his mother fuming with anger, Derek couldn’t keep the growl from escaping from him when the names were dropped and neither could his mother. Once the names were revealed Derek was ordered to go upstairs by his mother, while his father warned him not to disturb Stiles who was taking a nap. With his head lowered Derek left the kitchen, he could hear his mother and father talking about what to do with the five students of Beacon HillsHigh School that had beaten their second-son, he felt some of the tightness around his heart ease when the issue of him going out on a date wasn’t the primary concern of his mother.

 

Derek made his way upstairs the high and happiness he had felt not too long ago now gone, he traveled in an almost slow motion to his and Stiles’ bedroom because he was not too keen to see the damage done to Stiles; his guilt might become too much to bare or his anger might just flare out of control. 

 

Walking into his bedroom Derek finds Cora curled up next to Stiles who is snoring lightly, his mouth slightly open and face bruised and battered; Cora glances up at Derek but continues stroking Stiles’ soft looking hair like he was some beloved pet. Cora was whining where she lay, little droplets of tears were running down her chubby little cheeks as she looked at the boy she had an elephant-sized crush on. 

 

`Why? ´ Cora whispered before nuzzling against Stiles bruised cheek, and all Derek could give her was, `I don’t know.´

 


	54. Don’t think it’s over

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone had a different way of dealing with the situation, some did it by using threats of lawsuits and others well went just a little bit further than that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had completely forgot about this chapter, well no that’s a lie because I did remember Talia’s part but Peter’s not so much, imagine my surprise when he turned up in this chapter and at the end I was like “What the Hell did I just do and why?” but that’s not new with me.

 

Talia Hale had kept her emotions under control, she had ruled over her anger that had threatened to bloom into uncontrollable rage,she had allowed only a hint of her anger to come out.The hurt and sorrow Talia felt she kept it locked away even when the sight of her youngest son all bruised and battered hurt her heart and soul.When Talia called the principal of Beacon Hills High School she kept her voice steady and calm, she insisted something to be done about what the principal had dared to call an incident. Talia had been calm and respectful even though her wolf wanted nothing more than chase down those that had harmed their young pup. 

 

Talia remained under control of her emotions until late at night when she and Thomas lay in their bed, it was only then that she allowed herself to cry because she felt entirely useless as a parent.

 

Talia remained calm as they sat down for breakfast the following morning, she keeps it up even when she was forced to face the horrible markings that tainted the fine pale skin of her dear boy, each marking was like a loud roaring screaming telling her or perhaps simply reminding her how human Stiles was, how fragile he was.Talia kept her emotions under control as she and Thomas drove to Beacon Hills High School with an anxious Stiles Stilinski, her calm shattered the moment they reached Stiles locker and several pieces of paper fell to the floor at his feet when Stiles unlocked and opened the slightly dented locker, at first Talia had thought them to be nothing more than Stiles own notes but the panicked scent that came from her young son had her reading one of the notes and it was then the calm vanished and anger flared.

 

_ Fuck off and die faggot. Go fuck your daddy like the little whore you are. You know you want to.  _

 

Ugly words scribbled down on the torn out page of a notebook glared up at her, it was branded into her mind, and with that Talia Hale became completely done with the art of playing nice. Talia Hale the Alpha of the Hale pack could no longer control the indescribable wrath within her soul, with trembling hands she gathered several pieces of paper that were ruled by disgusting and degrading words directed towards the Alpha’s youngest son, she read each and when she was done faced a devastated looking Stiles who was still down on the floor and amongst the devastation of Stiles courage and strength was the heaviness of defeat. 

 

Talia pulled Stiles off of the ground as gently as possible for she was not angry with him, she slammed the locker door close before marching towards the principal’s office ignoring everything and everyone but Stiles; she stormed the office ready to go to war for her child.The moment Talia caught sight of the delinquents and the parents that had mistakenly created them, the anger she had been keeping under lock and key was allowed to roam freely or rather to explode within the small space.Talia handed the notes that had been stuffed into Stiles’ locker to the parents as well as the silly little man that was hiding behind his desk and title.Four of the notes held the scent of the abominations that were sitting there in the small office, those little shits had made sure Stiles didn’t have a safe environment of learning and Talia hated them all for it.

 

Most of the parents seemed genuinely shocked by the words scribbled down for all to see. Even after seeing the looks of disgust on the faces of the parents Talia continued raging on in the behalf of her silent child who was trying to hide behind her, she knew this was not something Stiles had wanted. 

 

Talia did not give the principal a second to speak or for the parents of those disgusting children to try and explain away what had been done to her son, she did not give them the time or chance to belittle the outcome of those notes.Talia threatened the school and the parents with lawsuits which had the room reeking of fear and anxiousness, but Talia didn’t care about these people or their families all she cared about was her own family; all she cared about was making sure Stiles could continue on with his life without having to worry about feebleminded idiots who were beneath Stiles in every way possible. 

 

By the end of the meeting with the principal and the parents of the kids that had tormented a member of her family, the gathering ended with the little rats getting expelled.But even with the boys getting expelled Talia still did not feel at all satisfied with the outcome; she would prefer that those little bastards be flogged in the middle of the town but apparently that was against the laws of human-society. 

 

Talia didn’t feel comfortable about keeping Stiles at Beacon Hills High School after what had happened to him, but there was also this strange domineering part of her that refused to surrender and appear weak and fearful before the lesser beings; this primitive part refused to surrender ground and have her pack seem weak before others and that was why Talia walked out of the building that served to educate the young minds of Beacon Hills’ youths. 

 

There was a terrible ache inside the Alpha’s chest as she walked towards her car without her youngest son. 

 

Of course Talia Hale had not left Stiles before making sure he understood that he could call her at any moment, Talia made sure Stiles understood he could call her the moment he even started to feel like someone had ill-thoughts towards him. Talia walked to her car and sat in it for a few minutes, or she would say it was for just a few minutes when it was in fact fifteen-minutes of simply sitting there and listening in on her two sons that were slowly going about their day.

 

** ~*~ **

 

His sister was delusional and naïve if she thought having the teenagers that had violated a member of their family simply expelled from the school would be a respectful punishment for what they had done to Stiles, he felt like Talia had done nothing and with that thought Peter decided to take action of his own;he stalked his prey’s one by one and learned what he needed to learn about each person, he broke into their homes and scanned through their lives like there was no such thing as privacy. 

 

In the end seeking vengeance was ridiculously easy and that was rather disappointing. 

 

The first of to get a taste of Peter’s wrath were the Hayne twins, Todd and Ted were easy to deal with as all he needed to do was burrow a strangers car from another party thrown by some girl from Beacon Hills High School when her parents were out of town for the weekend, and drive around Beacon Hills until he caught sight of the identical twins on their bikes trying outrace each other. 

 

With a gentle pressure on the pedal that caused the engine to roar and with a focused hit the two Hayne kids flew of their bikes and crashed to the ground in a heap of brittle bones and bent metal. Neither boy lost their lives that Saturday night but their bones were broken and snapped like the twigs of a dying tree. 

 

The damage the twins received left their bodies shattered and useless, any hopes of any athletic achievements in the future as well as any dreams of represent their country in the Olympics were washed away by the Peter’s need to avenge Stiles.Peter found a strange pleasure in the knowledge that the twins would be forced to live with the memories of formal greatness, surrounded by their trophies of past achievements while constantly aware that there would be no more of such things to grace the shelves of their bedrooms and the den of their dull house where saints and images of Jesus were placed about the house.

 

The only reason why Peter had left the two alive was not because he was merciful, he was anything but merciful towards those who harmed a member of his family; he would have gladly killed both of the teenagers if Peter had not feared the attention the deaths would bring. 

 

The werewolf abandoned the car not too far from the sight of the hit and run. Leaving behind several empty bottles of beer as well as a scattering of interesting little pills he had found in Archibald Ferris bedroom days ago. Peter placed the unconscious Archibald Ferris who reeked of alcohol in the driver’s seat, feeling rather pleased as he headed off into the night leaving the boy to be found.

 

Peter Hale had snatched young Ferris from the party his girlfriend had thrown, it wasn’t much of a challenge to snatch the boy who had cursed Stiles and the Haynes twins that had in an attempt to save face and skin talked about everything Archibald Ferris had done to Stiles since his arrival at Beacon Hills High School.The words spewing out of the thin-lipped mouth of the young man was enough to convince Peter he was doing the right thing. 

 

Peter had managed to learn that the senior had already been caught for drunk-driving, not once but twice, and so a third-time getting caught behind the wheel of a car while intoxicated would not raise too many eyebrows.And because everyone knew about young master Ferris’ resentment towards the twin boys and the anger management issues, the possibility that Archibald Fernando Ferris would leave the party drunk and hungry for what he would call justice was well and truly plausible. 

 

After taking care of the Haynes twins and Archibald Ferris, Peter spent a few days doing nothing but waiting for the perfect time to deal with Rafael Wilson who had since Stiles arrival at Beacon Hills tormented the _his_ boy,Peter had in the beginning when Stiles had opened-up to him about the Hell that was Beacon Hill’s High School stalked young Wilson in the hopes of avenging his beautiful boy, but when it became clear that Rafael Wilson was struggling with his own sexuality Peter decided to leave the boy alone; that is until Wilson frustration and anger manifested on Stiles pale skin. 

 

For Wilson Peter had planned something special.

 

Wilson might have openly repented what he had done to Stiles and with his parents insistence the young male was spending an hour a week with Dr. Greenberg, the young male might face the truth about his feelings towards young Stiles; and that was something Peter could not allow and so he arranged for a rave to take place in the old abandoned factory that held nothing but it’s walls and roof, nothing else was there to speak of the buildings past, the building had been stripped from its former glory that had started in the late 1930 and that made it the perfect place for Peter’s little play. 

 

Peter created the perfect scene for the last scene of Rafael Wilson without anyone aware of it. It was Peter Hale who created the perfect rave and it was Peter who slowly poisoned Rafael Wilson with a wonderful but deadly cocktail of alcohol and drugs that various little dealers provided him. It was Peter who watched over the less than glorious death of Rafael Wilson as the life of the younger man slowly vanished from the fearful blue-eyes, it was Peter’s voice that was the last one the boy heard before the light in his eyes vanished.

 

`You know, you could have had him.´ Peter had said as he watched over the dying boy whose hands were clawing at the pale flesh of his throat in a desperate attempt to get the get the sick out of his airways, ` You could have him if you weren’t drowning in your own vomit.´ 

 

Rafael Wilson reached for Peter who simply smirked down at the dying boy, ` this is you see necessary,´ Peter explained as he moved away from the reaching hand, ` I simply can’t risk you confessing your true feelings towards my dear Stiles.´ a desperate sound escaped from young Wilson, `This is for the best.´

 

The last one Peter would dirty his hands for was Jack Byron. Byron had been cyberbullying Stiles since the very end of his first day at Beacon Hills High School; the young man had been verbally abusive towards Stiles to such extent that Peter had to wonder how Stiles had not slit his wrists. All the evidence Peter gathered caused the werewolf to suffer from a burning rage like no other, and that was why Peter was more than willing to bloody his hands.

 

Getting to Jack Byron wasn’t much of a challenge as both of his parents seemed unwilling to stay at their impressive and slightly over the top house, leaving their only child alone to deal with his own life as he wished. Because neither father nor mother were there to assure their only son remained at the house like a good boy who was grounded should, Jack Byron left the safety of the house as soon as his parents left to attend another gathering of the upper-class of Beacon Hills; it was easy for Peter stage a mugging gone horribly wrong, Peter stabbed the young man just one but skillfully enough to assure a slow and painful death for the boy. There were no witnesses and so Peter could enjoy watching the boy die a slow and painful death, much like he had done with the Wilson boy. 

 

When the cold hand of death had claimed the younger man who had cried for his mother as he suffered through the painful death, the death left Peter’s wolf feeling mighty pleased as they had done what their Alpha had failed to do; they had proven their worth and capability to Stiles and their pack. 

 

** ~*~ **

 

Stiles wasn’t stupid, naïve probably, but stupid he was not. The sudden “accidents” or “incidents” as well as the sudden deaths involving the bullies that had been named could not be the simple outcome of the Fates favoring him. Stiles knew the moment he caught Peter’s eye after the incident between the Haynes and Ferris that something was up, and then when Rafael Wilson was found dead Stiles knew Peter was somehow involved with the Wilson’s death even if it was written off as nothing more than a terrible accident. Stiles could not help but wonder what had prompted Peter such acts of violence and murder. 

 

If Stiles had not feared Peter the way he did, then perhaps Stiles might have found the courage to question Peter’s new found favoritism for violence, Stiles was however not brave enough to face any of the answers Peter might have bestowed such a question. 

 

There were of course moments when Stiles feared Peter would have him join Wilson and Byron, or perhaps Martha would be the one to do the deed as she appeared to have a deep seethed hatred towards Stiles. 

 

Too frightened by the possibility of feeling Peter’s claws through his body had Stiles staying at a safe distance from Peter at all times. Stiles did not dare move from one room to another without someone there with him and as weeks passed with his behavior like this Stiles began to notice Peter growing more and more displeased with him.

 

Stiles knew this could not and would not go on forever, and dear heavens how much that thought frightened him. 

 


	55. Dealing with the Devil on my Shoulder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The punishment didn’t fit the crime.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A chapter full of Peter!

 

Enough was enough it had gone on long enough; this unsavory little dance Stiles had forced Peter to endure against his will and desire.Peter was done being the little damsel getting twirled around he wanted to take back the control he had lost in their relationship which he had been forced to give up on for Martha. Peter wanted Stiles back to talking with him like they had once done; Peter missed the clever conversations that had always held a battle of wits. Peter wanted to be able to be alone in a room with the boy without the teenager crashing to the ground from the weight of the panic attacks the younger male suffered from. Peter needed Stiles to stop fearing him because they were pack, they were family. If this continued till the day their Alpha died, till the day Peter took charge over the pack and lands, then there was a terrible possibility that Stiles would leave the pack; that the one Peter wished to give the bite too would abandon the pack and Peter, and that was something Peter could not allow. 

 

Peter had his suspicions that his dealings with Ennis was the reason behind Stiles fears when it came to Peter, the distrust there looming behind the fear was as evident as the fear itself. And yet the werewolf could not grasp the reasoning behind Stiles’ fear, there was no reason why Stiles had to fear him simply because of the request Peter had made to Ennis; there was no reason for Stiles to fear Ennis anymore or for Peter to go to another Alpha and request the same from them as he had done with the failure of an Alpha that had been Ennis, Stiles was pack now and Talia would see Peter hanging him by his own intestines if Peter even thought about making a similar move he had done with Ennis. Hell, Peter would get strung up a tree with his intestines if Talia ever heard about what Peter had been up too with Ennis. 

 

But what had been done, what had happened, was over and done. Now Peter needed Stiles to understand that they were pack and family, he needed Stiles to understand that he could never harm Stiles and Peter needed to make sure the boy understood this. 

 

Peter and his wolf had wished that Stiles would have understood where their loyalties lay when it came to the young human after they had dealt with those unpleasant creatures that had harmed _their_ human. Peter knew, he knew from just one look that Stiles had figured out that it was Peter’s doing and not a simple act of karma that had brought down each of those disgusting creatures that were called human; but for some reason Stiles had grown even more fearful of them since his clever young mind had figured what the werewolf had done. 

 

The problem was getting to Stiles, to get younger male alone long enough to have the much needed conversation; it was a difficult task but not an impossible one all that was needed was for Derek to abandon Stiles yet again for the sake of his mysterious girlfriend. 

 

The chance came one day when yet again Derek made the decision to leave Stiles for the sake of his girlfriend, a girlfriend none of them had yet to learn much about. Abandoned by Derek yet again had left Stilesto walk back to the house, the young man seemed unwilling to call for a member of the family to come and pick him up, perhaps he wished to protect Derek’s little affair or he did not wish to be a burden to the Hale-family **.** It was unclear whether it was something as simple as dumb-luck or the Fates favoring Peter that brought the moment of privacy needed for the encounter with the human child, in the end it didn’t matter what was important was that Peter came upon the boy who had become family by both terrible circumstances and the great blessings of those higher powers that had chosen to side with Peter Hale that late afternoon when October had barely come to play; Peter had been running in the woods trying to bring some calm to his bad-tempered mind, Martha’s behavior towards him was becoming insufferable her fearfulness was rather irritating, when suddenly a familiar scent caught his attention and Peter changed his destination at once, heading towards the direction from where the luring scent came from.

 

It didn’t take long for the werewolf to find _his_ prey, _his_ boy, his pack mate and some would say his nephew.

 

Stiles looked tiered as he walked with unsteady steps across the narrow path that travelled through the Preserve unknown by most men, only creatures that had found a home and shelter in the ancient woods knew of this path; and so did the Hale-pack and now young Stiles who was unaware of the silence of the area as his ears were abused by music Peter could never bring himself to listen too. 

 

The werewolf allowed Stiles’ senses to alert their lord and master of the beast lurking and watching him, it was always fun to see the reactions young Stiles had when he caught Peter watching him; Stiles was simply far too entertaining when he realized he was no longer alone. It was a pleasant little game they played, he and Stiles. 

 

The young heartbeat increased in its delicious thumping and the lithe figure stood still body rigid when it dawned on Stiles that he was being followed and watched, Peter really didn’t need to see the reactions and the movements of the boy to know he was afraid to turn around and face the one who had begun to stalk him along the narrow path that was by no means a safe terrain to try and run on due to great old roots sticking up and out of the ground like Mother-natures very own traps.The beating drum of the heart skyrocketed at the sight of Peter and dear heavens how that just had an unwanted anger to spread through Peter’s veins like a terrible poison. 

 

`Why do you fear me so, little one? ´ Peter asks, voice far too predator, he could sense Stiles struggle to stay there before him when every primal instinct demanded him to take off running;but Peter knew that the human was far too brilliant to give into such a dangerous instinct, Stiles lived with werewolves and in the early days of their relationship Peter had made sure to teach Stiles what NOT to do when faced with a predator such as him and his kind. In the early days he had wanted to keep Stiles safe, to ensure that the boy with eyes like liquid amber when the light of the sun hit them just the right way would not cause his own demise. 

 

`Am I to take it that you’ve figured out what transpired between me and a now _very_ dead Alpha.´ it wasn’t a question and Stiles didn’t respond, Peter moved closer to the boy who stood still like a dear caught in the headlights of a speeding truck; the terrible sound of the young heart was enough to summon forth the wolf beneath Peter’s skin, the beast unable to understand it was them that caused the fear inside the boy to bloom. 

 

`What I don’t get is how you know.´ Peter says while reaching out to touch the boy he loved as much as he could ever love someone; he wanted Stiles back, he wanted _his_ Stiles back, for this one that feared him simply wasn’t enough because Peter wanted and needed the _right_ -Stiles to be there in his life.Stiles flinched at the touch Peter provided, the reaction a simple touch on the cheek could have on Stiles made Peter growl which of course didn’t help the situation at all. 

 

Stiles pulled away, heart rapidly beating so loud and rude that Peter’s anger continued to grow in size and shape, the younger male moved away several steps without turning his gaze away from Peter. 

 

`Did _he_ tell you?´ Peter asks, he wouldn’t put it past the useless Alpha to reveal far too much while raping the boy where anyone could catch them, the thought of Ennis violating their agreement infuriated the Beta. Stiles gave a short nod, the young body trembling and it was not from the cold, Peter feels a strange urge to rip the fear right out of the young body standing before him. 

 

Stiles moves further away from Peter who moves to follow, Stiles opens his mouth to speak but closes it almost at once. Peter knows that the boy is rattled and fearful, and that just isn’t right for Stiles should never fear Peter; he should still be the boy who trusted Peter, because the boy does trust everyone else in the pack but _him_. 

 

`How much did he tell you? ´ Peter asks, voice tight and irritated because Stiles shouldn’t know anything and the dead-Alpha should not have spoken about their dealings with the boy, but before Peter gets his answer out of Stiles Thomas Hale comes bursting through the trees looking even less like a human than what Peter feels like; the sight of a wolfed-out Thomas has Peter backing away from Stiles who visibly relaxes with the presence of the their Alpha’s mate. 

 

While Stiles’ fear was changed into something less fearful, the reaction Peter had to the Beta that was standing between Peter and Stiles was anything but calming; there was no doubt in Peter’s mind that Thomas would gut him if he made a move towards Stiles, even one look could drive the werewolf to attack Peter without so much as a warning.    
  


 

A promising moment, a hopeful situation, had drastically turned for the worse by the simple arrival of Thomas Hale; perhaps the Gods did not favor Peter as much as he had hoped they did. 

 

`What’s going on?´ the question, the demand for an answer, came out in a growl that informed Peter that Thomas had no qualms about ending his life. Thomas’ stance told Peter that the werewolf was not only prepared to protect the boy that was now sheltered by Thomas’ ridiculously muscular body, there was also that slight twitching of those clawed fingers that told Peter that Thomas was struggling against his urge to kill and maim Peter even without him giving Thomas cause for such a violent act. 

 

Peter knew he was in peril and should take his leave before things got ugly and complicated, but before he could his sister’s voice all cold and unyielding spoke from behind him. 

 

`I’m equally curious why my son reeks of fear and why you would harass one of my children like this Peter.´ Alpha Hale says, everything in her voice the way she moves closer tells Peter he can’t simply brush this moment with a few clever words or by showing submission to his Alpha. Peter knows he is in danger of losing his life.

 

`So, tell me Peter why does my son smell of fear.´ the demand comes in the form of an almost growl that Peter had only heard once before and that was when his sister had readied herself to defend the honor of her pack against an intruding pack that had thought the young new Alpha would be easy to defeat. `Why don’t you explain to us why you have my pup alone with you? ´ 

 

Peter swallows nervously as his sister lays her hand on his shoulder, her sharp claws easily piercing through the thin fabric of his t-shirt and then through his skin like it was nothing at all against the touch of the Alpha, `Tell me why you are here alone with my son who clearly wishes he were anywhere but here.´

 

`Just talking, sister, nothing more.´ Peter answers, trying to keep his voice steady and calm, trying hard not to reveal how much it hurts to have the Alpha’s claws digging into his shoulder scraping against his clavicle; Talia keeps moving the tips of her fingers just so that her claws work, Peter fights against the pain that shoots through him as Talia plays with the cords of muscles and nerves, the sickening agony of the pain has Peter sweating bullets and going green around the gills and still he refuses the buckle down to his knees and plead for mercy. 

 

`And what, pray tell brother, we’re you talking about?´ Talia asks as she digs her claws just a little bit deeper into the bone, Peter turns his gaze towards Stiles who is now glancing over at Peter from behind the broad body of Peter’s brother-in-law who looks just a little bit more in love with Talia now than before. 

 

Peter begs, pleads for Stiles to stay silent, to do as _he_ tells him too but Peter knows, he feels it in his bones, that this is the day Stiles betrays him like Peter had betrayed Stiles; although Stiles betrayal is far more like that of Marcus Junius Brutus than anything Peter had done. 

 

Stiles locks his eyes with Peter’s, and for the fourth or perhaps the fifth-time he sees hatred in those wonderful eyes that sometimes makes Peter wonder if there isn’t just a hint of something supernatural within the fiber that makes the child, even in his anger and hatred Stiles Stilinski is still so fatally and distractingly beautiful. 

 

`He´ Stiles points at Peter as if no one knew that the boy was referring to him the finger slightly bent and slightly ruined due to the violent nature of Alec Stilinski, `a-and t-the Alpha E-E-Ennis,´ Stiles heart speeds up at the mention of the one that had violated him, `had an arrangement.´ A lock of shock plasters itself over the young features of Stiles Stilinski who had obviously not expected himself to actually speak those words, the child goes as far as to cove his mouth, Stiles stares up at Talia and then at Peter who should be furious with him but simply can’t because this is Stiles who betrayed him.Peter can’t be angry at the boy who speaks the truth and who appears to regret it the moment he had done so, and with tearful eyes Stiles takes off running; Peter is thankful that Stiles is running towards the direction of the Hale house and not away from it, as it means Stiles sees the house as his home. 

 

Peter feels the hand on his shoulder move to rest against his throat, the hand of death settles there and in its wake a voice low and growling whispers into his ear, `Better start talking brother, and do not lie.´ there was a promise of bodily harm right there within the words. 

 

He could always attempt to lie, Peter could always try and fool his sister; but there was no way he could successfully fool both Talia and Thomas, one of them at a time yes but not at the same time. And so Peter decided to tell what he wished would be enough of a truth to save his own skin which was the most important thing then and there;if Peter was dead or broken beyond repair how could he ever become and Alpha, how could he ever get Stiles back where he belonged?

 

`This might be difficult to understand, ´ Peter begins, ignoring the growls that came from Thomas, ` but I did it for the good of our pack.´ 

 

`What did you do? ´ Talia growled, her claws drawing blood from Peter’s body. 

 

`I went to the late Alpha in the hopes of bettering our packs future.´ it was the truth for the most part, ` I exchange some information I knew the Alpha would appreciate for the exchange of him giving young Paige Stilinski the bite.´

 

`You did what? ´ Talia’s voice trembled with rage. Without looking at his sister Peter knew that Talia was looking straight at her mate who looked shocked and uncomfortable where he was standing. 

 

`If Paige was one of us, our kind, there would have been nothing standing between Derek claiming her as his and mating her. With Paige bound to our pack…´ Peter explained placing some more weight into the want he had once in regards of having the female Stilinski in his pack for Derek’s sake, but before he could say anything else Talia snapped at him, `And you really thought Ennis would just hand-off his Beta, if she hadn’t died, to us? Really? ´ 

 

Peter ignored the harshness in Talia’s voice and gave his answer with the power of his conviction, ` _He_ promised. The Alpha _promised_ me. We had a deal. And he _knew_ Paige was Derek’s mate. And I gave him what he wanted.´ Of course Peter knew how foolish it was to trust another Alpha, especially an Alpha that had lost his entire pack to hunters, but Peter’s needs had outweighed any of his fears and distrusts and so he had gone to Ennis; Peter had been aware that the Alpha could have just killed him without hearing Peter’s request, but Peter had been sure Ennis wouldn’t risk gaining the wrath of the Hale-pack. 

 

`The bite killed her Peter!´ Thomas barks at Peter eyes flashing bright yellow, the anger Peter knows isn’t really about the death of the girl but rather the sorrow it had caused Thomas’ son and Stiles. 

 

`Didn’t you think that might happen? Didn’t you even think the bite might kill her?´ Talia asked, her voice rising with anger because of course she would be angry at him, Peter had by his request killed his nephews mate. 

 

In all honesty Peter hadn’t even allowed himself to imagine an outcome where the bite wouldn’t take; he had not believed it possible that a werewolf’s mate could reject the bite as Paige had done. 

 

`Nothing good came from your plotting and planning.´ Thomas snarled, glaring at Peter who could have argued that some good had come from it and that was Stiles, but he wasn’t foolish enough or ignorant enough to believe that Thomas wouldn’t shred his throat out for such a soulless way of thinking. 

 

Peter gives a short nod, bowing his head as much as he can and wearing an expression that was an Oscar winning performance of regret and shame. But his show of false-regret was not nearly enough to sooth the anger Talia and Thomas were feeling over the pain he had caused their child, or children as it seemed to be these days.

 

Enraged Talia tossed Peter away from her like he was some filthy creature, she threw him away from her like he was nothing more than a ragdoll, while roaring loud enough to shake the slowly dying leaves off the trees, `You forced Derek to kill the love of his life!´ The moment Talia attacks him so does her mate. 

 

Peter tries to defend himself, tries to get away but Talia and Thomas are out for his blood and he knows it; they are furious because Peter had driven heartache and guilt into the young heart of their son, and drove a seemingly honorable man to drink which later drove him to abuse and break his own son a son that was as much Talia’s and Thomas’ as he had been Alec Stilinski’s.Peter tried to fight back even if he knew there was no victory to be had, but he could not just lay still and take the beating; he could not just sacrifice his limbs for the rage the Alpha and her mate were feeling, he had never been good at taking any form of a punishment without fighting against it first.And so he fought as best he could until his body gave in to the lack of blood and the agony of shattered bones, he fought until unconsciousness struck him down. 

 

** ~*~ **

 

It’s dark when Peter comes back to the land of the living, the air he breathes feels cold in his lunges causing sharp pains to explode in his chest as well as against the cage walls that were his broken ribs, there had never been a time before that breathing had been such a labor of pure will. His left eye is swollen-shut, and he is coughing up blood and he is suffering from a killer-headache. Peter isn’t sure how long he has been unconscious, he does not know how long he has been laying there in the middle of the forest bloodied and broken left there by his sister and her mate. 

 

Peter should feel over the moon because the punishment had simply been a beating and not a banishment, but there is a dark voice inside his head that demands him not to accept this treatment not to take the harshness with acceptance for he is not just a simple Beta; he is and Alpha in-waiting and should be treated as such. 

 

Peter groans as he moves, his body protesting his will to get back to the house. Out there alone in the dark forest, with his body broken and weak, he was an easy target for hunters and any strays. 

 

Most of his broken bones have healed well-enough to grant him some movement, but the Thomas had snapped like a twig before the much large werewolf had dragged his body over to Talia who was in her full-wolf form, the bones had healed but the wrong way which forces Peter to break his own leg and set it as best he could so it might heal properly.

 

The fact that Martha hasn’t come looking for him stings a little, the fact that she hadn’t come for him tells Peter that she was probably hoping he would die out there; and that thought displeases him a great deal for as the future mate of an Alpha she should be far more interested in ensuring his well-being. 

 

While resting for a moment on the ground that felt uncomfortable against his sore back, he ponders the suitability of his mate with the future Peter could see for himself; Martha’s capability to handle the duties as an Alpha’s mate were greatly diminished by her action or the lack of them, this notion had been on his mind several times before. With Martha’s inability to accept Stiles into the fold and the way her own ignorance damages her way of thinking had already proven these suspicion he had about his mates capability justified; but for her to leave her injured mate to heal on his own in the woods without any protection was a great proof of how useless she was to him and his future. 

 

_ I should get rid of her, I have no use of her anymore,  _ Peter thinks as he begins to crawl towards the direction of Home, the wolf within him guiding him onwards while also growling in anger over their mates abandonment,both Peter and the beast within him agree that Martha had out-stayed her welcome after all she had already given him a child; the child might be nothing more than a girl, but it was still a Hale, and did one really need more than just one child?

 

As an Alpha Peter could easily force his nieces to breed over and over again until Peter was satisfied with the amount of Hale’s they gave birth too, something about keeping Laura heavy with children pleases Peter for if the wannabe-Alpha was constantly pregnant it would make her rather useless in everything else;a life surrounded by children would do Laura well, it would remind her who was the true Alpha of their family, and finding a mate for Laura would not be too difficult considering how beautiful she was and the fact that she was a Hale did no harm the prospect of finding her a mate that would side with Peter.

 

Peter crawls home, his thoughts ruled by those his mother and siblings would consider evil and unmoral, but they fuel him forward and that’s what’s important;he desires to watch how Thomas suffer and grieve over Talia’s death and the cruel fate Peter would pass to Laura, Peter would be merciful towards Derek and Cora as long as the two understood their place in _his_ pack. 

 

Peter would give Stiles the bite, keep him close, and he would never let the boy go. Stiles Stilinski could never leave Peter, everyone else could but Stiles couldn’t because Peter would make sure of that. He would not let the boy go, ever. 

 

****

 

****

 

 


	56. Chase Me. Chase Me.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There would always be that difference being true family and just someone taken-in, Stiles was slowly beginning to realize this, beginning to see blood was blood. Peter Hale was blood, Stiles Stilinski was not and that was something he could never change.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a half of a chapter which I realized would be far too long, and I wanted to post something before everyone got bored with me and my issue with time. 
> 
> Oh, and PLEASE don’t HATE Thomas, he’s having a rough-time which of course Talia is also having, but still don't start hating him.

 

The disbelief Stiles felt the morning after his encounter with Peter Hale in the forest was indescribable, he was taken by surprise when finding the werewolf seated at the breakfast table the following morning reading the morning paper and enjoying a hot cup of coffee, Stiles was taken aback by how everything seemed like nothing had transpired yesterday.Stiles had retreated to his and Derek’s bedroom as soon as he got to the house and hid there until Abigail called him down to dinner,the Alpha couple weren’t there and neither was Peter which caused tension through the dinner; Martha sat in her chair and glared at everyone but her hateful gaze remained the longest on Stiles who couldn’t stop fidgeting, Abigail kept trying to talk to everyone while also trying to settle the youngest members of the family, all Stiles had been able to think about was what might be going on between Talia and Thomas as well as Peter; Stiles hadn’t known then whether the werewolves were banishing Peter or killing him, but he had been so utterly sure that they were dealing with Peter, he had been so sure they would do something to protect him against the only true monster in the pack.Stiles had been so sure he had held such faith in Talia and Thomas.

 

Stiles had gone to bed that night unsure which outcome he would prefer when it came to Peter, but Stiles was certain none the less that he would not be seeing the monster ever again; and yet, although he wished to be free from the curse that was Peter Hale Stiles still found himself crying into his his pillow, there was that small part within him, be it a very small part, that felt very conflicted about the entire situation;Peter had been Stiles first-love, and there was still this small delusional part within him that loved Peter, maybe it was just another destructive part of his nature that continued to love Peter. Stiles had continued crying into his pillow, wallowing in self-pity and sorrow until Derek crawled into bed with him,Derek said nothing not a single word nor until Stiles had calmed down enough to drift back to sleep, it was only then that Derek whispered into his ear, `Everything will be better in the morning, so sleep, sleep Stiles.´

 

What Stiles hadn’t expected to find in the morning was Peter Hale alive and well, drinking coffee paying no attention to his mate who was on breakfast duty that morning. Seeing Peter there in the kitchen, unharmed and very much alive, was like a knife through the heart.

 

A vicious little voice within Stiles, the same little voice that had so often driven Stiles to grab a blade and brand his skin with beautiful lines or that pushed him to abandon food for several days, it was a nasty little voice that was quick to point out every mistake and stupidity that made him unworthy of anything good, that little demonic voice questioned Stiles intellect and asked him if he was so detached from reality that he thought that the werewolves would banish or kill their own for someone like _him_?

 

 _Peter’s blood, your just a charity case. Grow-the-fuck-up!_ the voice screamed inside of Stiles head, laughing a malicious laughter that was cruel enough to make his eyes sting with unwanted tears, Stiles knew that the voice was right about everything and he hated having to face the truth so early in the morning;it was painful to realize how little any form of justice for him mattered when the bastard behind the whole raping Stiles Stilinski was a Hale, his heart ached when he was made to know how little he actually mattered. Seeing Peter confirmed what Stiles had feared to be true, Stiles knew now he was not a real part of the family; he was not on the same level as Laura and Derek, he didn’t have the same rights as Cora, and Stiles wasn’t family not really. Stiles wasn’t a Hale, he wasn’t blood unlike Peter.

 

`Sit down and eat.´ Martha growled suddenly, startling Stiles out of his thoughts, he looked at her and then at Peter who had abandoned the paper and was now looking at Stiles with that look of “Are you surprised to see me” a tiny smile pulling at his lipsit was enough to have Stiles’ stomach churning and made his lunges contract, and all he knew was that he could not stay there and so without a word Stiles ran; Stiles ran out of the kitchen and straight out of the house because he needed to get away, he needed to get as far from Peter and the other Hale’s as he could, he just couldn’t face them not yet. 

 

Stiles escaped the house, running until his chest hurt and until his stomach felt like it had been twisted into several tight knots,he ran until he couldn’t breathe properly. Stiles ran until he stumbled out of the forest and onto the old road, the SUV barely missed him and frankly he was rather disappointed when it swirled and missed him.

 

**~*~**

 

Thomas felt a surge of panic crash into him when he heard and sensed one of his pups run-off, to find his child gone without a word was a terrible thing, and for it to be his most vulnerable child had his wolf surfacing and going after their young pup; a pup who really should know not to wander about on his lonesome, the worry and fear had him howling as he ran following the scent of his offspring.The fear of losing his pup frightened him more than anything, the dread sinking deep within his stomach and the need to find his lost pup had him speeding through the terrain like there were no obstacles, he kept his human-form because he wished not to frighten his youngling; and if he let the wolf within him out one could never know what it might do with the chase.Thomas howled although he knew that this pup had no ability to answer him or for the boy to understand the howl Thomas was sending his way, he however wished that somehow his human child would understand the meaning of the howl and call-out for Thomas.

 

Because of the emotional strain Thomas was under when his most fragile of children was upset enough to run and leave the safety of home and pack, with his nerves already under strain since yesterday when he had caught Peter alone with Stiles who had already once been hurt so unjustly by Peter Hale and when Thomas learned about the way Peter had harmed both of his nephews Thomas was left struggling with a storm of emotions that surged forth within Thomas;what Peter had done was beyond Thomas’ understanding,  the turmoil of emotions such as guilt and fear surged forth within him at the realization that he had failed in protecting his family, the cocktail of doubts and self-loathing made him follow the wrong scent-trail and it took smelling the blood Peter had spilled the night before to alert Thomas to the mistake he had made.  

 

It took some backtracking before Thomas caught the right trail and as he chased the scent of his youngest son who reeked of unhappiness and bitterness. Thomas ran as fast as he could, letting his wolf out no longer trusting himself to find their missing pup alone.

 

Thomas Hale could hear his son long before he could see him, the werewolf could hear the pup talking to someone and that hastened his steps even further and the only thought the wolf had was getting its pup away from the familiar male voice that was conversing with the pup.The wolf became even more alarmed when it recalled to whom the male voice belonged too, hearing his little boy talking with the hunter who was head of the Argent-family had the werewolf howling out a warning to his son; warning him that he was in the presence of a man that killed their-kind without mercy or thought.  

 

Reaching the area where the trees gave way to the manmade road where Thomas could still find shelter and a good enough view of the road to see his youngling climbing into the familiar black SUV, the sight had Thomas calling-out to his son with a loud howl, begging him to get out of the vehicle and come to him; because Thomas could not risk breaking the treaty his mate had made with the Argent’s by attacking one of their vehicles and pulling his very-human-child out when all of that would justify a hunter to shoot him and wage a war against his family and pack.

 

But the young pup does not obey, he stays in the vehicle while the hunter turns to smirk towards the spot where the werewolf was hiding, `Stupid mutt, he’s human,´ the hunter taunts while walking around the front of the vehicle that holds Thomas’ son. A growl escaped the werewolf even though Thomas knows that the older man can’t hear the sound of warning and anger. Thomas watches anxiously as the car starts to move forcing Thomas Hale to battle his inner-wolf for control as the beast within him demands to destroy the SUV until there was nothing left but twisted pieces of metal and shards of glass, it demands Thomas to drag their pup right back home and force the youngling to understand where the child would be safest.  

 

Although Thomas managed to stop his wolf from shredding the SUV into ugly little pieces of metal and leather, he still gives chase; running at the side of the road where he was still kept save and out of sight by the trees, he chased the SUV until there was no coverage for him and he had to stop. Thomas howled with desperation and anger; he had lost his son, his pup, who was now in the hands of a very experienced Hunter and there was nothing Thomas could do about it. The werewolf watched the vehicle disappear out of sight, and his heart sank because he knew that he had failed his son once more; he knew like the other-father he Thomas Hale had failed Stiles.

 

With his head hung low Thomas made his way back to his house, there he found his mate and children waiting and of course his brother-in-law and the sight of Peter and Peter’s mate had Thomas feeling a surge of wrath because his young son had ran away after an encounter with the two.

 

`What did you do!?´ Thomas roared as he lunged at Peter, who was fast but not fast enough to escape Thomas, he had the much smaller werewolf pinned against the wall in seconds of entering the house where Stiles should have been at that moment having breakfast with the rest of the family and not driving around with a hunter, `WHAT DID YOU SAY!?´

 

`Nothing.´ Peter answers, clawing at the arm of the hand that was slowly strangling him, `I swear.´

 

There was not a sign of a lie there which was shocking considering how Thomas had been so sure Peter had said something to upset his little boy, he had been so sure Peter had done something perhaps touched the boy inappropriately but there wasn’t a single hint of a lie there and it shocked Thomas enough to ease the death-grip he had been sporting around Peter’s throat and that was just enough for Peter to escape his hold.

 

Thomas’ mind couldn’t grasp why Stiles would run-off the way he had done if Peter hadn’t done anything to trigger such reaction in the child, in his mind there just had to be a reason there just had to be one, but Peter wasn’t lying; and that could only bring Thomas to one conclusion and that was that simply seeing Peter was damaging his youngest son, and that could not continue and with that in mind Thomas turns towards his Alpha and mate eyes ablaze with determination and the unwavering need to protect his child.

 

`This has gone on long enough,´ Thomas made no attempt at hiding his anger, he made no apologies about his feelings or needs, he would face what punishment Talia would bestow upon him for his insolence, `Can’t you see what he’s doing to Stiles!?´ Thomas points at Peter with a finger that was entertaining a sharp claw, `How can he heal when he can’t even feel safe in his own home? How can he heal when he’s constantly on edge, when he constantly has to face the man who helped ruin his life!?´

 

`This is Peter’s home; it has been his before that _human_ was even born! ´ Martha screams, there isn’t much anger there only desperation although the loathing she expressed when it came to the word human had Thomas growling at her, `This house is Peter’s not the _humans_.´

 

`Our son ran out of his house without so much as a piece of toast in his mouth, he ran Talia because of him.´ Thomas continued pointing at Peter, his voice continued to rise as the wrath within him grew, `Our son reeked of hurt, self-loathing, disgust, and bitterness.´ Talia flinched at the small piece of information and Peter looked like he had been slapped across the face, and still Thomas could not bring himself to care about the werewolf who stood unmoving next to his mate while looking at his sister in what Thomas was more than sure was a plea for her to side with him and not Thomas, `And do you know what he’s done, Talia, do you know what that boy did?´

 

Talia says nothing, she simply stands there silent and still while Laura hurries out of the room to attend to Cora who has started to cry and scream for her parents obviously alarmed by all the shouting that was going on, but Thomas doesn’t care because his son is in danger and Cora is safe and sound.

 

`He got in the car with Gerald Argent! ´ Thomas says with a voice loud and cold, `He decided that a hunter was a safer bet than going home.´

 

**~*~**

 

Talia Hale hadn’t slept more than a few hours her thoughts had rolled around her younger brother. Her baby brother had gone behind her back and caused the death of Paige Stilinski. It made her sick to know Peter had taken Derek’s chance for happiness away, it sickened her to know that the reason behind it wasn’t as honorable as Peter had attempted to portray it to be, she knew in her heart that whatever Peter had done was for his own benefit; everything Peter did was always for his own benefit.

 

Talia sighed as heard her mate stir awake beside her, they had argued before bed and she could sense Thomas had not yet forgiven her for allowing Peter to stay; she knew Thomas wanted her to banish Peter, but she couldn’t do it because he was her brother, Peter was family and pack.

 

Thomas got out of bed without even giving her a glance, there wasn’t a gentle good morning kiss, it made her heart ache to know how cold the issue with Peter had made her mate; of course she understood the reasons for it, but it didn’t make it any less painful for her.Talia watched her mate get dressed which usually was something she enjoyed doing and he would make it even more lovely by showing off all the sculptured beauty that was his body, but this morning was one that had Thomas getting dressed quickly and leaving Talia alone in their bedroom feeling as terrible as she had done when hunters had taken Thomas who had sacrificed himself so she could stay safe.

 

Talia remained in the bed that had never felt so empty and cold before, she tried to calm her racing hear and hold back the tears that threatened to fall because of her mates rejection; Thomas had never treated her this way, he had even been kinder to her when she had flirted with the Alpha Deucalion knowing very well that she had the Alpha had a past that would have justified some form of jealous anger.

 

Talia knew she was her own worst enemy. Ones-own mind was always the greatest enemy be you human or a supernatural being like she was, and as she lay there in the bed she had shared with her mate since their mating ceremony Talia allowed herself to sink deeper into a state of doubts and worries. And while she gave into her misery the sound of running feet that were ungraceful enough as well loud against the floorboards of the foyer reached her ears, she knew at once it was Stiles who had taken-off running; then the loud bang of the front-door getting pulled open and slammed-shut which was followed by even more running, she was up and out of the bed even before she heard Thomas’ calling-out to their runaway son, her mate’s voice ripe with alarm and by the time she was out of bed Thomas was already out of the house howling for Stiles to come home; the desperation in her mates voice cut through her heart without mercy.

 

Talia hurried out of the Alpha’s chamber if she had been running then she would have surely crashed into her youngest who was barely awake and standing there out in the hallway looking still sleepy, but there’s a look that tells Talia her daughter is about to start wailing and when another loud howl breaks from Thomas the first tears start to fall.Cora had always been a bit overly emotional in the morning especially if she was forced awake before she was ready for it, and especially if she sensed something wasn’t right and proper around her.

 

`Oh, honey, don’t cry.´ Talia said as she scooped up her little princess dressing in her pretty pink PJ’s and fluffy-bunny slippers (one of the ears was missing after Cora’s chew-everything-in-sight fazes), Cora clung to her and started to cry against her shoulder while whimpering, `Why daddy flaid?´

 

`I don’t know, honey,´ Talia said truthfully, she of course knew this had something to do with Stiles, it always seemed to have something to do with their youngest son but what it was all about was beyond her knowledge, `But I’m sure daddy will be fine, because he’s daddy right?´ Cora gave a short nod against her shoulder, her little nose moving against Talia’s neck gently, `Daddy’s the strongest, greatest werewolf ever, isn’t he?´

 

`He the best.´ Cora agreed, calming slightly and after a pause during which she had started to purr which was common practice for her when Talia rubbed her pack, `An mama too.´ Cora said as she nuzzled against Talia’s neck and shoulder, `Laula plettiest. Dewek coolest. Nana oldest.´ Talia couldn’t help the laughter that escaped her at the description her daughter gave when it came to Abigail Hale.

 

`Tiles’ best human.´ Cora said with as much conviction a little girl could, `He so pletty mama. Like a plince.´

 

`That he is.´ Talia agreed as she carried her little one downstairs, her heart hurting slightly at the amount of love Cora seemed to hold for the human child, and when Cora said, `He be my plince an I be a plincess.´ Talia Hale felt like the worst mother in the world; she had failed at protecting Stiles and one day she might be forced to comfort her little girl when she realized Stiles wasn’t interested in girls. It had taken Talia a while before she had finally accepted the fact that Stiles would never be interested in Cora the way she was sure Cora would one day be interested in Stiles; Talia had indeed wished that Cora and Stiles might become mates one day, she had even counted on it in the beginning.

 

Talia made her way into the kitchen where she found her brother and his mate, Martha looked like she had been caught doing something she shouldn’t and Peter – well, Peter looked like he wasn’t at all sure what he should do – and that was enough to tell Talia something had indeed happened between the two and the youngest of her sons.

 

`What happened?´ Talia asked, settling Cora down in her little thrown, her gaze moving between the mated-pair for she could not sure if Peter was to blame or Martha or perhaps both of them had somehow managed to upset her second-youngest child.

 

`I honestly don’t know.´ Peter said, and he did sound and look like he was slightly lost which was such an unfamiliar look on Peter that Talia struggled to recognize him as the arrogant and self-obsessed as well as cunning and cocky younger brother of hers, this Peter was someone she had never seen or experienced before and it made her feel absolutely at a loss.

 

`He came into the kitchen Alpha.´ Martha said while hurrying to get Cora’s breakfast ready, ` and then he – then he just ran off.´

 

`I said nothing. Did nothing.´ Peter said with a voice low, there was not a single drop of anger or resentment there which was another strange and unfamiliar thing considering how Talia was accusing him of chasing Stiles Stilinski out of the house, there was only a strange hollow emptiness in her brothers voice and was she simply imagining it or was there sadness hidden within the depth of the emptiness.

 

`Are you telling me, ´ Talia says while running her fingers through Cora’s soft dark brown hair, `that all it took was seeing you two to get him to run-off the way he did? ´ Martha glances at Peter and Talia understood the meaning behind it; all it took was seeing Peter, all it took for Stiles to run-off into the morning was seeing Peter.

 

Talia’s heart sank and she felt lost and useless. Her wolf whined and whimpered inside her, it wanted her to make everything better, to mend the break that had been growing within their family and pack. But neither she nor her wolf had a clue how to fix everything so that she could keep her son and her brother.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, I also just need to say that I'm sorry if this chapter is a disapointment and because my Dove has told me she hated the way I used Cora in this chapter I feel I need to explain why I threw her in there; I can't imagine Cora just sleeping through the loud howls and slamming of doors, unlike a teenager (Derek) or Laura who is used to noises of screams and crying because of her sister and Brother.


	57. Take it or Leave it

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> `Ever wondered why Derek’s eyes glow blue and not yellow? ´ Gerald asked as he placed a hot cup of coffee in front of the boy he had so many plans for, `You have seen them right?´ Stiles gave a nod, his hands were trembling slightly, which was understandable considering the boy had been running through the woods without a coat or proper clothes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please do try and comment because this chapter made me really nervous and I’m seriously having a crises of faith when it comes to this story, or maybe I just don’t want to get to the part where I have to kill of everyone I’ve grown to love.

 

Gerald Argent was used to seeing creatures of the forest running out onto the road, he was even used to seeing monsters cross the road without a moments warning, what he had not been prepared for was to find a boy at fifteen standing there at the side of the road looking lost and exhausted; what he wasn’t prepared for was to find Genim Stilinski standing out there in the middle of nowhere without a jacket to keep away the damn chill of the morning and without shoes to protect his very human and frostbite prone feet.It didn’t take much convincing to get the shivering child into the warmth of his car, the boy looks confused and he seemed almost not mentally there which made Gerald wonder what could have brought on such a reaction in the teenager.Hearing one of the wolves calling for the boy who was willingly following Gerald’s guidance gave the hunter a sense of pleasure in the knowledge that one of the beasts were probably watching him and the boy; getting in the car and driving-off, of course Gerald had to say something to show the animal he knew it was there and to tell it where the child should be.

 

During the drive towards the school, Gerald didn’t ask the shivering boy anything, Gerald simply handed Stiles his own jacket and continued to drive towards his workplace which would be silent for another hour or two depending on how eager his fellow-coworkers would be this day.

 

`Wait here.´ Gerald tells the boy after parking the car in the spot that was reserved for him at the Beacon Hills High Schools parking lot, Genim gave Gerald a short nod to confirm he had been listening and would do as he was told, Gerald gave the boy a small smile before getting out of the car.

 

Gerald stands outside the car which stood alone in the parking lot, the hunter takes in the surroundings making sure the beast hadn’t followed them and the lack of howls proves this to be true, with a small smile on his lips Gerald made his way over to the back of the black SUV. Being the hunter Gerald was he always kept a change of clothing in each and every vehicle he owned, as well as the gear a hunter needed, and so it didn’t take long for Gerald to grab the boots and socks needed, walking over to the passenger side of the car Gerald listened carefully for any sign that the monster was somewhere nearby or was coming for the child but everything was quiet without being dangerously silent.

 

Gerald yanked the passenger-side door open without warning the boy and thus causing child to jump slightly and letting out a squeak.

 

`Easy there, it’s just me.´ Gerald said keeping his voice friendly and none-threatening, `I need to see your feet, just to make sure you haven’t damaged them too badly, but to do that I need to see them and to touch them.´ He can tell the boy struggles to do what is asked of him, but soon enough the boy slips his feet out of the inside of the car while still remaining seat inside the large vehicle, `That’s it. Now let’s see what’s going on with your feet.´

 

There was far more dirt than actual damage, although a few bruises were forming and there were a few small cuts but nothing life-threatening, and so he slipped on the socks that were two sizes too big for the boy that was silently weeping into Gerald’s jacket; the crying needed to be dealt with once Genim abandoned his past and became an Argent. Gerald slipped the surprisingly small feet into the boots that were designed to handle rough weather and terrain, then helped the child out of the SUV and guided Genim towards the building of education; the school was eerily quiet and cold this early in the morning, but Gerald preferred it like this.

 

Gerald took the boy into the lounge where he and his fellow educators found shelter from the annoying youths, and had Stiles take a seat at the round-table, after spending a night making plans to eradicate Beacon Hills of the Hale’s Gerald needed coffee and he was sure so did the boy that shivered at the table and so Gerald began to make them both a good cup of coffee; if Finnstock had been the first to brew the coffee that morning it would have most definitely not been a liquid Gerald would dare to pass to the child.

 

`We should call the Hale’s,´ Gerald said as he watched the drops of dark-liquid start their journey into the slightly stained coffeepot, `I’m sure their worried about you.´ of course they would be worried about a member of their pack driving-off with a hunter like Gerald, he hoped the werewolf that had been chasing the boy was the Alpha’s mate because that mutt had experienced the ways of hunters like Gerald, there was a strange pleasure in knowing how riled-up the beast must have become the moment Gerald was alone in the car with the boy the Alpha-couple had taken under their care.

 

`I s-s-suppose.´ the boy said with a small voice.

 

`I’ll call them, shall I?´ Gerald asked, and he felt pleased by the reluctance the boy was showing to the idea of having the Hale’s in the know, it was something Gerald hadn’t seen in the boy since the time when Gerald had been forced to deal with either Mr. Stilinski.

 

`I’ll tell you what, ´ Gerald said trying to sound a bit less happy about the rift that had grown between the boy and the family of wolves, `I’ll call them and tell them you are alright, and you don’t have to speak to them unless you want too. Is that alright?´  Another shrug of shoulders was all Gerald got, for now it would do but once the orphan was under Gerald’s care these sort of wordless answers would not do and Gerald would teach young Stilinski speak. He would forged the boy into a great warrior, a soldier worthy of carrying on the name of Argent’s, he might even convince the boy to forsake his homosexual tendencies and create a fertile-union between Genim and Kate; his daughter would surely find pleasure in such a young bedmate, and knowing how disinterested Kate was in the idea of mothering children and Genim being surely too broken to care for their offspring’s Gerald would be the ones to raise the children into perfect soldiers.

 

Gerald struggled against the pleased smile that wanted to appear at the ideal future he had imagined.

 

The hunter had to keep his voice calm and steady as he called the Hale House; he had the number memories because one never knew when one might need to negotiate a hostage situation. Gerald had to keep his voice from revealing how much he was enjoying this situation, how this moment proved that Gerald Argent was superior to the animals. He watched the child who was looking down at the slightly stained table cloth with an empty look in his eyes. Gerald knew something very significant had happened to bring about such a silent change in the boy.

 

`The Hale residence.´ a female voice answered after a unfairly long wait, Gerald turned his back to the child and spoke with his most respectful of voices, he did not wish to voice his true feelings about the family when the boy had yet to sway his opinion of werewolves in Gerald’s favor.

 

`This is Gerald Argent.´ there was a gasp of sorts at the other end of the line which had Gerald smiling ever so slightly, he could hear a commotion in the background and he was sure then that there were more than just one rift in the house of Hale, `With whom am I speaking too?´

 

`Abigail Hale.´ Gerald knew the Hale’s well enough to know that Abigail had been the previous Alpha’s mate, he also knew that her daughter had chosen to keep her mother in a high-position within the pack even though her best days were over.

 

`I’m calling to inform you that I have young Stilinski with me, we’re at the school so if your grandson would bring a pair of shoes and socks for our young runaway it would be greatly appreciated.´ Gerald could hear the growling seizing at the news, werewolves had impeccable hearing and at times it was a pain but for times like these he found the usefulness.

 

Gerald wasn’t too surprised when the phone was passed to another member of the family which just happened to be Alpha Hale herself, `Mr. Argent.´ her voice was tight and Gerald could almost imagine how her eyes were flashing red, `I would appreciate it if I could speak to Stiles, to make sure he is alright.´

 

 _Of course, why would a beast trust the one that hunts it_ , Gerald thought with a pleased grin rising on his face.

 

`I shall ask him.´ Gerald says while scolding his expression into something less pleased, then he turned towards Genim Stilinski who looked so small and anxious where he was seated.

 

`Genim, would you like to talk to Mrs. Hale? ´ He wasn’t at all surprised when the boy shook his head, `I need to hear you say it son.´

 

`I-I d-d-don’t w-w-want to t-t-talk.´ the boy said, struggling greatly to form the sentence.

 

`That’s fine son.´ Gerald said trying to sound so very fatherly as possible, then he returned his attention to the coffeemaker and spoke to the Alpha who had whimpered at the child’s answer, `You heard it? I can’t force him to speak.´ of course the werewolf knew Gerald could force anyone to talk, but he wouldn’t harm the child for such anything that wasn’t entirely necessary.

 

`You’re enjoying this, aren’t you Argent.´ it wasn’t a question and Argent wasn’t about to answer it, instead he began to prepare two cups of coffee, `I’m sure he will be more talkative once the shock has departed.´

 

`If your hurt him, I swear Argent...´

 

`I’m sure we both know that will never happen.´ Gerald says happily cutting the Alpha off like her thoughts and opinions did not matter, and they didn’t matter to a man such as Gerald Argent, `I’m sure he’ll be back with you tonight. Now I’ll have to focus on getting young Stilinski all warmed-up.´

 

`DON’T YOU FUCKING TOUCH MY SON!´ Talia Hale roared and Gerald had to think twice before answering calmly, `Oh, he’ll be fine.´ and then he ended the call with a quick goodbye, he took pleasure in the knowledge that he had just caused a little bit of chaos to unfold within the pack.

 

**~*~**

 

`I know you are not in the mood for talking, but I really need to know that you are alright, Genim.´ Stiles flinched at the slightly overly-fatherly voice his teacher was sporting, he looked up at Mr. Argent who was watching him carefully, although the man did look and sound like he was concerned about Stiles the boy still had his doubts because no one really cared about him; his own father hadn’t.

 

Stiles silence had the man sighing but then there was a look in those watchful grey-eyes that made what the older man suggested not too much of a surprise, `What if I give you a piece of information I’m sure the Hale’s haven’t given you in exchange for you telling me how you’re feeling?´ Gerald walked towards the holding two cups of coffee, watching Stiles watching him, Stiles suddenly felt incredibly uncomfortable and trapped; Gerald was a hunter and Stiles had been living with werewolves for months now, he could force Stiles to betray the Hale’s just like they had done.

 

`Ever wondered why Derek’s eyes glow blue and not yellow?´ the question was one Stiles hadn’t actually thought about before, he had simply thought that the blue-eyes were beautiful but now when the question had been tossed out there he was beginning to wonder, he had to wonder why Derek’s once yellow eyes had changed to blue, `You have seen his true-eyes, haven’t you?´ Stiles nods and takes the cup of coffee Mr. Argent places down on the table in front of Stiles, the heath of the liquid burns through the yellow-walls of the cup but the pain is a welcomed one and Stiles keeps his hands around the ugly cup that had probably been created during the seventies.

 

`Alpha’s have red-eyes.´ Argent tells him as he sits down at the table, not next to Stiles but not exactly at the other end of the table, `Betas have yellow ones, be they omegas or not.´ Stiles is listening carefully although Derek had told him this much in the beginning of their friendship. Gerald takes a sip of coffee while allowing the information to sink in, once he is sure the information had found a nest within the boy, `There is only one way for a werewolf’s eyes to turn blue, and that is by killing an innocent.´ the words are unwelcomed and Stiles snaps immediately, `That’s a lie! Derek wouldn’t, he could never...´

 

`But he has, ´ Gerald said before taking a sip of his coffee, `when we hear about a werewolf with blue-eyes we usually kill them as soon as we learn of them, but considering how Derek is a Hale I made the decision to investigate first.´Stiles wants to throw his cup of coffee in Gerald’s face because Stiles knows that Derek would never kill anyone, Derek wasn’t a murderer and Stiles would not stand for someone like Argent to speak ill of him and so Stiles calmly got out of the borrowed boots and took of the socks while Gerald started to babble on about his investigation into possible victims.

 

`The only person who died by a so-called animal attack during that time-period was your sister Genim,´ Stiles freezes in his movements to place the hunters jacket on the back of the chair he had been placed on but which he rose from when Argent began to speak about various deaths,` the only death that fits in with the sudden change in Derek is your sisters.´ Stiles feels a coldness wash over him as dread settles in his stomach like a smooth large stone, `The Alpha that attacked you bit her, trying to turn her.´ Stiles’ heart starts to beat in a terrifying speed at the slight mention of the Alpha that had raped him like Stiles wasn’t worth much, then again Stiles own father had thought as much about him as the Alpha had.

 

 _You **are** worthless, _ the cruel voice snickers in his head while Gerald continues to spew what had to be lies, and they just had to be.

 

`When your sister died the Alpha was with you. And there is only one wolf in town with blue-eyes and I’ve had my fellow hunters surveying the other wolves that had been in town at that time and none of them are wearing the mark of a murderer.´Gerald informs Stiles who feels suddenly very sick and unable to stand and sinks back into the chair while becoming almost deaf to everything the hunter is saying. Stiles can’t stop the thoughts that force him to think back to everything he _knew_ to be true about Paige’s death. He thinks back to all the times his father had brought out the details of the attack that had stolen Paige away, he thinks back to every picture his father had of the crime-scene which Stiles had been forced to look at because his father wanted Stiles to see what he had done to Paige.  

 

The frightening part of the memories of those pictures he was forced to see, his the way Stiles can suddenly feel his father’s hand at the back of his neck forcing his face down against the pictures that were spread out on the table, but what makes Stiles break-down in tears is because he can suddenly imagine Derek there with Paige; he can even imagine Derek holding his sister who had to have been in pain before slicing through her throat with his sharp claws.

 

`Oh God. Oh God.´ Stiles cries, because he can suddenly understand why his sister had lain there on the floor like Sleeping Beauty or Snow White and not like someone who had died alone in a kitchen; he can suddenly understand why Paige hadn’t crawled around to try and get help or away, she hadn’t been alone but with someone she had trusted and that person had killed her.

 

**~*~**

 

 

`You. You need to make a choice Talia.´ Thomas says once the phone-call from Gerald Argent ends, it had been a call that hadn’t done anything to ease the panic that had taken hold of Thomas since Stiles had vanished into the hunters vehicle, the phone-call had the opposite effect, ` Talia I love you, and you know that I love you, but I can’t do this to him Talia.´The wolf within Thomas begins to whimper and whine from not only the distress it senses coming from its mate, but it knows they need to protect their weakest and most fragile child. Regardless of the distress, both wolf and man understand the necessity of what they are about to do, even if they risk losing their mate and their other children in the process; Derek and Laura and Thomas’ little princess can stay safe and loved within the Hale-pack but with Peter around Stiles just cant.

 

`If I have to Talia, I will leave with Stiles,´ there is a loud gasp from Abigail and Talia looks gutted, and Thomas can’t even bring himself to look at Derek who whispers out, `dad?´ all small and child-like but Thomas has to ignore the pain he feels over what he is willing to do for his human-pup, `He can’t continue living in the same house as that thing you call your brother.´ Thomas points at Peter, eyes flashing furiously at the disgusting creature.

 

`You would leave your family, your pack for that human´ Martha asked sounding outraged which doesn’t help Thomas’ mood at all and he barks at her without a moment thought, `I would do what I have too! ´ Then he turns his attention back towards his mate who even with a look of devastation is the most beautiful woman he has ever been blessed to see, `You need to choose Talia. Stiles or Peter.´

 

`Thomas, ´ Talia breathes out, her voice slightly trembling and it hurts Thomas more than he could ever put into words.

 

`Where would you go?´ Derek asks voice full of worry and fear, Thomas feels sorry for the misery and hurt he is about to cause his children. Thomas had never wanted to cause any harm to his children, ever, but Stiles was one of his children and living with Peter was hurting his little boy.

 

`Home. I would return my original pack.´ Thomas answers, he can’t be sure his uncle would welcome him and Stiles with open-arms, his uncle might demand to Stiles to take the bite; and if his uncle were to make such demands or refuses them shelter then Thomas would become an Omega and simply find a safe-enough place for him and Stiles.

 

`You can’t just leave us! ´ Derek cries out just in time as little Cora comes running into the room crying, `You no leave daddy. You no leave.´

 

`Daddy stay.´ Cora sobbed as she threw her arms around his legs and buried her tears and snot into the fabric of Thomas’ jeans, he scoops her up and holds her tightly because who knows this might be the last-time he could hold her. He can’t help the tears that start to fall; he doesn’t want to leave his family, he has no real desire to abandon his children, but Thomas needs to keep Stiles safe and he needs to make sure Stiles had a chance to heal and grow into the amazing man he was sure the boy would become under the right circumstances.

 

`Thomas, please…´ Talia begs sounding desperate, Thomas knows that she could order and demand him to stay,  him to simply hopes that she would not go so far as to remove his freewill, but before she can speak her little brother cuts her words down by speaking.

 

`Enough of these ridiculous threats about leaving, ´ Peter said sounding rather frustrated with the whole ordeal, `can’t you see what you are doing to your children Thomas? ´ Peter growls gesturing towards a pale Derek and the little girl dressed in a periwinkle-blue princess gown, ` Martha and I shall move out of this house as long as we are still part of the pack.´

 

To say that Thomas is surprised by what Peter is saying doesn’t even compare the slightest to the shock he feels when he hears what the werewolf was offering, `No one needs to leave Beacon Hills, and no one needs to lose everything or anything. Martha and I will move out before the day is done, we’ll stay at a hotel or something until we find a place of our own.´

 

`Peter?´ Martha whispers, grabbing him by the arm but the brother of the Alpha yanks his arm free from her grasp and looks straight at Thomas while asking, `Will that be enough Thomas? I want my daughter to know her family, but I wouldn’t want my nieces and my nephew to grow without their father, so Martha and I will leave this house. I have no desires to harm Stiles more than I have already done.´

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And just to make sure no one thinks that I'm under the same delusion Gerald is hunder about sexualities; I have nothing against boys who like boys, or girls who like girls, or girls who like boys or boys who like girls. I believe you don't choose to be this way or that, like you didn't choose to be born a girl or a boy, or like you didn't choose to be born in the wrong body. 
> 
> And if someone want's to argue that I am wrong, then please don't spend the minutes of your day on trying to turn my head do something fun instead.


	58. The Shadowed Path

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let me tell you a story, a story about a boy who learned the boy he thought as his brother was the murderer who killed his sister.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few notes people, one is about Thomas’ thoughts about how thankful he is about not having to raise Stiles alone; I’m not saying he wouldn’t do it, or that Thomas thinks or feels that Stiles is too much work for him. No, what Thomas is feeling is simply that he fears he will fail at doing it alone, he fears he will do a bad job at taking care of Stiles alone which are the fears many people have, I think even my dad thinks that about me and my sister even though we are hardly babies anymore. Thomas would do everything in his power to be a good parent to Stiles if they were to be just the two of them, but he would fret about if he is doing enough or being good enough all the while. Forget not that Thomas was raised to be a Beta, a beta who was raised to fight and defend for his pack, he wasn’t raised to understand to complex nature of teenage boys and yet he would take on that challenge if need be. SO lay off of Thomas on that regard but if you have any questions or thoughts feel free to ask and tell. AND DON’T YOU DARE START HATING STILES! He is confused and hurt!

 

****

 

Knowledge, knowledge brings great wisdom and sometimes the greatest unhappiness this was not unknown to Stiles Stilinski, for he knew it better than most people.

 

The tears may have stopped falling by the time Derek and Thomas Hale arrived at Beacon Hills High School, but the hurt and shock remained rooted in his heart and soul both of which felt frail, Stiles felt exhausted and worn down like an old man who had lived beyond reasonable years it was a strange sensation one which he wished he could have avoided ever learning.Stiles didn’t look up at Derek or Thomas as they entered the classroom Gerald had moved the two of them into once more and more teachers started to drift into the building, Stiles simply couldn’t look at either one of them knowing what he now did.

 

The tension in the room tripled the moment the two werewolves entered neither one acknowledged the presence of the hunter, the tension became so thick and loaded that it made Stiles feel as though he was slowly being crushed by an invisible elephant. 

 

While Derek Hale paused by the door his father Thomas Hale however hurried towards Stiles who continued to avoid any eye to eye contact with the werewolf that had made Stiles think that he was actually part of the Hale family, but Stiles had learned now that it had all been just an illusion one into which Stiles had allowed himself to sink into.

 

`Stiles, son, are you alright?´ Thomas asked voice ripe with concern and body kneeling down before Stiles, the broad hands that were as lethal as a loaded gun reached out to cup Stiles cheek, it made him flinch but not enough to pull-away from Thomas, `What did you do?´ Thomas growled at Gerald when Stiles didn’t answer him. 

 

`I’ve taken care of him. I found young Stilinski here in the middle of the road; bare footed and freezing.´ Mr. Argent said sharply while glaring at Thomas who looked like the hunter had just slapped him or perhaps stabbed him.

 

There would have been a time when Stiles would have defended Thomas; there had been a time when Stiles would have stick up for Thomas the moment anyone would have called into question Thomas’ kindness towards him, but after learning that Talia and Thomas had chosen Peter after that Stiles couldn’t vouch for Thomas’ goodness and so the remaining Stilinski held his tongue. 

 

Stiles had spent months preserving and protected his dad when the abuse started, and he continued to do so even after it stopped safeguarding his father although Stiles had had his suspicions that the hurt would return one day. Stiles had endured every punishment his father had dealt him, and that hadn’t ended well for Stiles or his dad; and so Stiles was just done protecting those who didn’t deserve it. 

 

`I should be calling his social worker,´ Mr. Argent said voice tight and angry, `because it is obvious that young Stilinski isn’t safe with the likes of you and your family.´

 

Stiles heart nearly stopped at the mention of his social worker, Mervin Jones was a man Stiles really didn’t want to see again and he wasn’t the only one who didn’t take the threat well; Thomas stood upright and too a protective stance like just the mention of the man who was a firm supporter of foster care could be conjured simply by just the mere mention of him. 

 

`You’d like that wouldn’t you.´ Thomas growled his stance became as much as a warning as the rumbling voice was, `You’ve never liked the fact that he was given to _us_ , that he _belongs_ to us.´ Stiles glanced up at the two males that were both standing like they were prepared to take each other down and while the two stood there like Gladiatorsready for battle, Derek Hale was moving cautiously towards Stiles; until now Derek had been nervously standing by the door looking anxiously at everyone.

 

`Let’s get these off of you.´ Derek whispered as he kneeled down much like his father had done just a moment ago, but instead of cupping Stiles cheek the younger werewolf began to remove the far too heavy boots that Stiles had been forced to borrow, a whimper escaped Derek after he had rolled off the dull-grey socks and caught sight of Stiles pale feet which were filthy and slightly swollen at the base of his right ankle. 

 

`HE IS NOT ONE OF YOU!´ Mr. Argent roared at Thomas while closing the distance between them, their faces mere inches away from one another’s as the hunter continued on with an almost venomous sort of way, `He _is_ human and never forget that Hale. HUMAN not a an ANIMAL.´ 

 

Stiles had never before seen his teacher lose so much of his precious control, it was enough to draw Stiles attention away from Derek and take in the details of the visibly enraged hunter. There was something rather frightful about the rage he could see in the eyes of the man and it tugged at familiar strings within Stiles; the eruption of anger, the rage, it was all familiar and frightening because it was too much like his dad. But the anger wasn’t directed at Stiles which was something rather unfamiliar to the young man. 

 

`You’re so cold.´ Derek whispered as he began to rub some warmth into the bruised feet, but Stiles barely felt it and barely heard the werewolf speak as Gerald Argent’s words echoed inside of Stiles head confusing him even further. 

 

`He’s my son. MINE.´ Thomas snarls, snapping his pearly-whites that were too sharp to be entirely human. Stiles doesn’t feel the usual warmth that the words had in the past given him. His feet weren’t the only part of him that was cold that day, his heart felt like ice. 

 

`Your son?´ Gerald laughed rather mockingly.

 

`Yes. My. Son.´ Thomas growled, `Mine, not yours. And I will be taking him home.´ Thomas turned towards Stiles and the younger werewolf, `Derek, help your brother get his shoes on.´ Derek just nods and starts to cover Stiles feet with a pair of socks which he had brought with him while Stiles remains mute and observed the two grown men in the small space they were trapped in; Stiles’ heart was racing violently inside his chest because he really wasn’t all too sure about going anywhere with the Hale’s while also being anything but willing to stay, Stiles simply doesn’t know who to trust or if he really wants to trust anyone in the room. 

 

`You thing I’m just going to let you walk out that door with a boy who was running through the woods, his feet bare and not even wearing a jacket. You think I will let you walk out that door with a boy who ran from you and your family?´ Gerald spoke with a voice that was just a little bit too high to give him an appearance of calm, Stiles doesn’t like this Gerald because there is something terrifying about him.

 

`The reason has been dealt with.´ Thomas growls, but the way his shoulders are hunched tells anyone that the words of the hunter had struck deep, `Now, if you will excuse us we _are_ going home, _all_ of us.´ Stiles isn’t sure if he wants to go anywhere with Thomas and Derek, he might have been alright with it before Gerald told him about Derek’s eyes but not anymore; the Hales weren’t his family they had made that perfectly clear to him, and Derek…. and Derek had most likely killed Paige. 

 

** ~*~ **

 

While leaving the house Thomas Hale was left wondering what it was about Peter’s offer that left him feeling like there was a ticking time-bomb waiting to explode, he wasn’t sure whether or not this feeling was simply because of his personal hatred towards Peter Hale; Thomas had never liked Peter much, even before he had learned about Peter molesting the boy that wasn’t born out of Talia’s and Thomas’ love but who was still as precious as the children they had created. Thomas felt a surge of anger at how he could only wish that Peter would hold to his promise, a promise made to their Alpha a promise of staying away from the house only to return if so requested and for family-nights, Thomas could only pray Peter held to his oath of staying away from Stiles; there was also a promised made that Peter would not be alone with Stiles, that even if the boy was drowning or choking Peter was not allowed to touch him or breathe in the direction of the child. 

 

Unable to do anything but hope and pray that Peter would leave Stiles alone made Thomas Hale feel sick to his stomach because he was useless and he was supposed to be the father. He was the protector of the family, he was supposed to keep his son safe and because of Peter Hale he could do neither. 

 

_ I am as horrible of a father as Alec Stilinski was,  _ Thomas thought as the safety of the forest was left behind and more and more buildings were passed. 

 

_ I should have pushed Talia to banish Peter, I should have done more,  _ Thomas thinks while tightening his hold around the steering wheel, denting it slightly. The shame he felt for the sense of relief which he had felt when Peter offered to step-back and to move out was indescribable, for all Thomas had thought about at that moment was how thankful he was for not having to abandon his family. He had been so goddamn grateful for not having to leave Beacon Hills with Stiles, for not having to say goodbye to his family and for not having to find a new place for him and Stiles, Thomas was relieved over not having to try and start a new life; he was ashamed for being thankful for not having to raise the boy alone. 

 

But now as he hurried towards his youngest son, Thomas began to feel as though what had been achieved was hardly enough; and yet there he was well-aware that he could not bring himself to push his mate to banish her brother, because Thomas had agreed to Peter’s offer and it was settled and deemed finished. 

 

Thomas thoughts are shattered by Derek who starts to fiddle with the radio, his oldest son had never appreciated Thomas’ taste in music, then again neither did his youngest son. The drive remained silent which was as much a blessing as a curse it was fortunate because Thomas wasn’t sure how he would handle it if Derek were to ask how his own father could choose Stiles above his own son, and it was a curse because Thomas needed to know that Derek understood that he loved his oldest son as much as he loved his youngest, Thomas wanted to know that Derek understood why he had to choose Stiles above their original family. Being a father, being a man with responsibilities had never felt as daunting and heavy to the werewolf than what it did now, and Thomas feared he was failing at it. 

 

Beacon Hills High School stood great and silent as Thomas parked his car near the entrance of the building. Thomas wasn’t all too sure why he followed his oldest son into the building that held Stiles, considering how the original plan of action had been for Derek to take the socks and the shoes to Stiles and then the two boys would finish their school day; but Thomas felt no longer like that decision was in the best interest for him and Stiles. There was no challenge in finding the scent trail or to find the familiar beat that was Stiles Stilinski’ heartbeat, Thomas tracked down his youngest son effortlessly; the sound of the heart that belonged to the boy Thomas considered his did nothing balance the increasing concern the werewolf had for the child, the heartbeat was erratic and fast, distressed. 

 

Without a word to his oldest son, Thomas hurried into the building tracking his youngest boy, whom he found in to one of the classrooms and without much care for niceties Thomas entered the room, and hurried towards the young human who appeared sickly pale where he was seated at one of the desks. Stiles was trembling and his cheeks were burning red, there was an emptiness in his gaze that didn’t really reach Thomas which unnerved the older werewolf, the salty-scent of tears informed the werewolf that this little one had been crying not too long ago and it made his wolf whimper and whine, but it also made the beast growl for surely the hunter in the room was to blame. 

 

But regardless of how much the wolf wanted to see the hunter bleed for what crime he had committed against the young boy, the werewolf’s most primal need was to ensure the well-being of his youngling and so he ignored the desire to sink his claws into the chest of the man who had slaughter many of its kinfolk, `Stiles, son, are you alright?´ the question was ridiclous,it was obvious his little boy wasn’t alright, but no one had ever called Thomas intelligently gifted; no, Thomas was an embodiment of brute-force, strength, he was the first-line in battle, he was a soldier. Thomas could not create victorious battle-plans or take part in diplomacy, those things were for those with sharp-minds and clever-wit, Thomas was the power that brought victory and protection. And yet, there was a softer side to him, a part that would die a thousand deaths if his mate and children would be safe and happy.

 

Thomas reached up to touch the cheek of his little boy, there’s a strange heat coming off of the skin and it makes the werewolf more than certain that he needs to take the pup home, the lack of an answer has Thomas snapping at the hunter, `What did you do?´ of course those words resulted in a short and hurtful argument, one which was entirely unnecessary, it was one which Thomas could have ended sooner if he had swallowed his own pride. 

 

Thomas took both of his boy’s home; ignoring Derek’s protests about being fine enough to stay because Thomas needed his family together, he needed to make sure his family staid safe and sound, he needed both of his kids away from the hunter.

 

While walking back to the parking lot Thomas could feel the hunter watching him and his kids, the man felt like a threat even more so than Peter. He ushered both his sons into the car quickly and without listening to any of the protests his oldest attempted to make and speeded out of the parking lot without so much as a thought about what others would think.

 

`Peter and Martha are moving out of the house.´ Derek tells Stiles after the buildings of the Beacon Hills are left behind and the forests grows thicker and older around them, both of the werewolf’s pups are sitting in the backseat just like good little pups should. Derek had wrapped Stiles up in his own jacket and had kept trying to make small-talk with his brother who simply sat there silent looking out at the world outside the speeding car.

 

`Did you kill her?´ Stiles suddenly asked, the question has Thomas glancing at his oldest son who looked absolutely shocked and hurt by the question, ` Was it you, who killed her? Was it you Derek?´ Stiles gaze is still focused on the world outside the car, and there is such hurt and sorrowand a hint of anger behind those words while his expression is as blank as the look in the brown eyes. 

 

`I-I,´ Derek stutters, eyes locked on his father, begging for his help, pleading him do something because this question should never had come to play between Stiles and Derek; they had all agreed to keep this piece of information from Stiles, it was a decision made for the sake of their family and because they couldn’t imagine Stiles capable of handling the truth. But as always Stiles had to surprise them all, had to break the rule and the mold, and Thomas wondered how they could have even imagined that this would not happen. 

 

`Stiles,´ Thomas wished he wasn’t the one who had to do this, he wished he didn’t have to be the one who had to break the truth to his little boy, Talia would have been so much better at it and Abigail would have been even superior at it than Talia, but Thomas was there while neither Abigail or Talia was, `it was an Alpha that attacked Paige, and the Alpha forced the Bite on her,´ it wasn’t easy to bring a painful part of Stiles life back to the surface, it made Thomas feel sick, bringing back the soulless beast that had attacked the mate of his oldest son while also assaulting his youngest son made Thomas Hale feel like he might lose control of his wolf. Smelling the fear and anxiousness coming off of Stiles just from the mention of the dead Alpha made Thomas feel like he should ask Dr. Deaton if there was a possibility to bring back the monster so that Thomas could torture the disgusting creature to death.

 

`You know what the bite should do, but sometimes the bite doesn’t take and the body rejects it,´ Thomas glances at the boy who has stayed silent, a boy who would have in the past had a hundred questions for Thomas to answer but who just sits there silent like a ghostly reminder of someone Thomas Hale had once known, `No one knows why that happens but it does. There is nothing one can do once the body starts to reject the bite Stiles, _nothing_.´Thomas glances at both of his kids by the review-mirror that had thanks too Cora a sticker of Tinkerbell on the mirror, Derek looked miserable like his entire world had crashed and burned while Stiles appeared cold and distant, `And when the body rejects the bite it’s – it’s just,´ he could sugarcoat it, Thomas could try and make it less truthful but then again that would make things much complicated when it came to explaining why Derek had taken the life of Paige Stilinski, and so Thomas spared very little thought to downshifting the truth, ` when the body rejects the bite it’s just the most horrible and slowest of deaths, it’s ugly, it’s painful, it’s pure agony for those involved.´

 

`Dad…´ Derek whispers, voice broken and even without looking at his second-oldest child and without using any of his heightened senses Thomas knows Derek is about to spill tears for the girl that had been destined to be his mate just as Talia had been destined for Thomas, even Peter and Martha had someone out there who had been carved-out by the universe to be there perfect pair but do to their own mistakes they were now destined never to feel the wholeness that Thomas felt with Talia. 

 

`Derek found her, he found Paige suffering and did the only thing that could end it.´ Thomas’ own voice broke at the thought of what his son had been forced to do, his sixteen-year old son had been forced to end the life of the one person who would have made Derek’s life a much simpler and happier one. There was no denying that Thomas was incredibly proud of the strength Derek had shown when freeing Paige from the suffering Ennis had caused her, but he also felt like a part of his own heart had broken with Derek’s, it pained him to know everything Derek would never be blessed to experience.

 

Thomas sees the moment emotions flood the younger boy, he can smell the sorrow and the anger that bloomed from the boy who looks so small and worn, he sees Stiles looking at Derek with watery eyes which are full of anger and resentment. 

 

Thomas wasn’t sure if a mercy-killing mattered much to Stiles, there was no certainty that the human-child would understand or forgive Derek for what he’d been driven too; there was nothing that could tell Thomas or Derek if the boy would understand the amount of desperation Derek had experienced while forced to watch as the love of his life suffered unjustely. There was nothing Thomas could do to make Stiles understand the great sorrow Derek had suffered and surely still suffered, there was nothing that could prove to the younger male how much having him around eased some of the guilt and pain Derek felt.

 

`You killed her.´ Stiles simply says after a moment of silence, voice trembling not from sorrow or hurt, the tremble was one of barely controlled anger, `You killed her.´ 

 

Derek started to cry rather openly, giving short nods while apologizing over and over again, begging for Stiles to forgive him. But Thomas could see by the way Stiles glares at Derek who makes a motion of trying to reach out for Stiles, Thomas can see in the way Stiles pulls further away from his son that Stiles is nowhere near ready to even contemplate forgiving Derek. Thomas can only watches as his son breaks-down in tears, he can only listen how Derek cries for forgiveness and understanding, he can only watch and see how much the coldness of Stiles and the distance pains Derek. And all Thomas can do is wish and hope that he isn’t wrong about the goodness of Stiles’ heart, he could only wish his human-son would learn to forgive Derek, and he wished that day would come far sooner rather than later because Stiles had been one of the forces that had held Derek from crumbling into a state of madness or to the point where his will to live would run dry. 

 


	59. Break

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek had never thought way back when Stiles was just Paige’s geeky little brother that he would miss sharing his space with the younger boy, but Derek did miss sharing his space with Stile, talking and laughing with Stiles was something he wished he could do once more but feared it might be impossible. Derek had never imagined that he would grow to love Stiles; he had never imagined he would grow to care for the odd boy like a big-brother would.   
> It however seemed like when Derek had finally gained the little brother he had always wished for, he lost him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My deepest apologies for the lengthy wait, but at some point I just realized I needed to start taking care of myself after realizing that I was just about to crash, but hopefully you’ll be able to forgive me for it. Now, we are nearing the end my dears. But it’s not yet the Hale Fire moment but it is on its painful way.

 

****

 

A week had passed, a long horrible week of silence, a week of having his room empty of Stiles. Derek’s room was once more entirely his. Stiles had moved out of their shared room on the very night when Stiles had learned everything Derek had in all honesty wished Stiles would never learn, Derek had of course tried to convince Stiles to stay but Stiles had simply declined to take heed of Derek’s pleas. Stiles had become deaf to Derek’s and his families attempts to apologize and all the attempts to reason with him. 

 

The Stiles’ silence was cruel and Derek found comfort when he was with Kate, but Kate could only do so much. But as soon as he was back home, as soon as he was anywhere near Stiles and his angry silence made it impossible for Derek to think about anything but Stiles and what he had lost. 

 

The teenage werewolf missed the talks he and Stiles had before drifting off to sleep at night; he missed falling asleep to Stiles’ heartbeat and steady breathing. 

 

Derek missed Stiles and he wasn’t the only one who missed talking to the boy. Stiles had turned cold towards everyone who had known about what Derek had done to Paige, Stiles simply refused to speak more than a few words to anyone who wasn’t Cora. 

 

Derek threw himself on his bed feeling exhausted and unwilling to even glance at his homework, sure Kate had made him feel good but only for a moment but now he was left feeling emptier than before, being home and in his room served to only remind what was missing from his life now that the truth was out. He wished as he laid there on his bed that he could just talk to Stiles about anything really just so that his mind would stop racing and twisting his gut. 

 

If someone had told him on the first day he met Stiles that he would grow to love the strange boy like a younger brother he would have called them crazy, in the beginning when Derek had found entertainment in bullying the kid with thick-rimmed geek-glasses and skinny long limbs there had never been a single thought in his head that Stiles might fit perfectly in his life as something more than just another punching bag. There had been a time when Derek would have given Stiles a good beating instead of a hug. There had indeed been a time when humiliating Stiles was a form of entertainment for Derek. 

 

Derek had never thought way back when Stiles was just Paige’s geeky little brother that he would miss sharing his space with the younger boy, but Derek did miss sharing his space with Stile, talking and laughing with Stiles was something he wished he could do once more but feared it might be impossible. Derek had never imagined that he would grow to love Stiles; he had never imagined he would grow to care for the odd boy like a big-brother would. 

 

It however seemed like when Derek had finally gained the little brother he had always wished for, he lost him.

 

Derek didn’t regret giving Paige a merciful death he would never regret it and could never regret it because he loved Paige too much to leave her to suffer a horrible death. But he did regret Stiles knowing about it. Derek did regret not being able to explain to Stiles why he’d taken the life of the girl he still loved. 

 

Derek rolled over onto his back so he could listened in on Stiles just a little bit better, the boy was just behind the wall, so close and yet so far. The teenage werewolf could hear Stiles’ heartbeat, he could hear him breathing but it wasn’t the same as having Stiles there in the room, he could tell Stiles wasn’t sleeping or working on his homework there was a special heartbeat for each of them; the heartbeat Derek was now listening in on was one of anxiety and it made him want to go to Stiles and comfort him but Derek was sure the end result would be anything but a pleasant one, the lack of movement was a sign that Stiles was either sitting at his desk or laying on the bed and thinking which was a dangerous thing these days for Stiles to do.

 

Then again he’d witnessed Stiles doing a lot of hazardous things lately such as going back to skipping meals and losing weight which Stiles couldn’t afford to lose, there was now an almost constant smell of blood or dried blood on Stiles who somehow managed in a house full of werewolves to cut himself with and no one of them could figure out from where Stiles got the blades he used to slice his pale skin with.Then there was the fact that Stiles was letting Gerald Argent in, he stayed behind after class and from listening in on the conversations between Stiles and Argent made Derek very aware of how the hunter was fueling on Stiles anger and distrust; Gerald was using Stiles hurt and feeling of betrayal shrewdly. 

 

Then there were all those seemingly secret phone calls Stiles made when the house was silent and everyone else was asleep, or out in the solitude of the woods that surrounded their house, and there was no doubt in Derek’s were to Gerald Argent.When itbecame clear Stiles had more than one cellphone in his possession Derek’s suspicions became legit and he didn’t hesitate to rat on Stiles because it was for his safety,and then after some searching which involved his father throwing the matrass off of the bed and his grandmother to go through every draw until the found the damn phone, his dad who nearly lost it completely when he called the two numbers Stiles had been calling in secret; finding out that not only had Stiles been talking with Gerald but also his son Chris had the pack on high alert. 

 

It took Talia using her Alpha statues to keep Derek’s father as well as both of Derek’s uncles from going after Gerald Argent. Of course his mother thought it would be enough of an action to inform the school and the school district and the school board about the inappropriate behavior of the teacher. But as always the hunter was capable enough to explain away what had been going on between him and Stiles, and because Stiles insisted under questioning that he’d bought the phone on his own accord and that every call had been school-related.

 

Argent didn’t even get a slap on the wrists and that made everyone even more desperate to separate Stiles from Gerald, and the only idea that had come to mind was homeschooling the boy, to keep him home and safe but Derek had to wonder if even homeschooling Stiles would be able to keep the older male out of Stiles life. 

 

** ~*~ **

 

There was something disturbingly terrifying about those pills resting on the palm of his hand, some of them were familiar due to being a part of his daily medication but most of them he’d bought from a few of the known dealers that roamed around the high school; being the son of a man who had once been a cop Stiles knew how to distinguish a well hidden dealer amongst a crowed of students.Stiles had been gathering little pills like squirrel and hiding them inside a dying tree on the preserve it had seemed rather poetic to hide them in there. Stiles had been collecting pills since the beginning of his life under the Hale House. 

 

He was determined, he’d been determined. But now that he was there his pills in his slightly trembling hand, he was so very afraid. He was determined but none the less terrified. Stiles had to admit that those chemical concoctions were as frightening as death itself was. The finality of death, the unknown that stood behind it, was what frightened Stiles the most. But he was ready to join his mother and sister, and his father if of course his dad was the man he’d been before Derek had killed Paige, of course Stiles knew there were no guaranties there would be a such thing as an afterlife it might just be death and nothing else; and if there was nothing after the last beat of his young heart then Stiles would be fine with it, the nothingness of death was far better than dealing with a life that brought him nothing but pain. 

 

The knock on the door startled him and all those beautiful pills jumped out of his hand and rained down to the floor, and his heart exploded into a race unfamiliar to his young body. 

 

`Stiles? ´ Talia Hale’s voice called out to him from behind the closed door, `Honey? ´ 

 

_ She can’t, she can’t come in, she can’t come in,  _ Stiles thought as he dropped hard and ungracefully to the floor, hurting his knees in the process, and began to chase after the pills frantically, s _he’ll try and stop me, she’ll take my pills away._

 

`Can we come in? ´ Talia asked, and Stiles knew who we were and the panic he’d been feeling grew. 

 

`NO!´ Stiles snapped while trying so hard to find all those little white chemical pearls that were deadly when misused, he tried so hard to recall how many pills he’d held in his hand, `I’m t-tiered. I’m g-going t-to bed.´ he wasn’t telling tales because he was tiered and he was planning on going to bed, he was just not planning on _ever_ waking up again. Stiles was simply too exhausted with life and all its hardships. 

 

_ Please don’t come in, leave me alone,  _ Stiles thought while he struggled to reach the two white dots under the bed, those chemical pears which were so close and yet so far.

 

`Stiles sweetheart, we need to talk.´ Talia said from behind the door, pleading and yet it was clear she would not budge on the matter, she would not take a no for an answer, `we are worried about you sweetheart.´ 

 

`P-p-please,´ Stiles nearly sobs, `I j-just want t-to g-go t-to sleep.´ He can’t hold back the tears that were falling now, his arm was just too damn short to reach the pretty little pills he’d done his best to hide and protect from the Hale’s.

 

`We just need to talk kiddo.´ Thomas said and hearing Thomas sound so small, made Stiles pause, `Just a little talk, please.´ 

 

`No.´ Stiles snapped, while deciding to abandon the pills under his bed for the sake of maybe rescuing those on the desk, he stumbled his way over to the surface that housed his treasures, `Leave me alone.´ He nearly knocked down the glass of milk he’d brought with him upstairs after finishing his walk around the preserve, he’d planned on taking the pills with a glass of milk. 

 

He doesn’t hear the door open it’s only hearing the Thomas’ voice clear as day that alerts Stiles to the sudden arrival of an unwanted guest or guests as it seemed to be, time seems to freeze for a moment as Thomas and Talia take in the scene before them; and Stiles tries to figure out how to explain away what they are seeing and any ideas that might pop into their heads but he knows that he can’t lie or explain away successfully the tablets on his desk as well as the few he sees near Thomas’ feet. 

 

_ I should have done this somewhere else, why am I so stupid? _ Stiles thought, wondered, while he watched Thomas’ eyes go from him to the white dots gathered on the old scratched up desk, and he knows by the way all the color drains from both the Alpha’s and the Alpha’s mates faces. Then without a word Thomas was there eyes wide and panicky, hands more beast-like grabbing him by the jaw, forcing his mouth open as if it would do much good. 

 

`How many!?´ Thomas yelled, `What did you take? Tell me! ´ 

 

`N-n-none.´ Stiles answered, confessed as best he could with two fingers in his mouth.

 

`Is he lying? Talia, is he lying? ´ Thomas asked while still trying to force Stiles to give-up the imaginary pills loitering inside of his thinning body.

 

`No. He’s not lying.´ the Alpha answered leaning against the doorframe she looked like she’d seen a ghost while Derek who’d no joined their little party was giving his mother a worried look, with the answer out and good Thomas pulled out his fingers and released Stiles jaw only to pull the young boy into his arms; it was a bone crushing, desperate, unrelenting hug. 

 

`Please… please don’t. ´ Thomas cried into Stiles messy outgrown hair, `I can’t--- you can’t leave me.´ Stiles stood stark still because he had never heard Thomas Hale ever sound so shattered, so fearful, and it felt horrible to know that he Stiles Stilinski had done this to the strongest man he knew, `I can’t lose you, not like this, not like this.´

 

Stiles listened to the words sobbed out by the man build like he was out of some superhero comic, Stiles said nothing or did anything to stop Talia from collecting all of the drugs he’d collected to end his useless life, he could hear her telling him as much as herself that everything would be fine while stealing away his exit. He could also see the devastated look on Derek’s face when he realized what Stiles had been planning to do that night, which seemed as an odd reaction considering how Derek had killed his sister and tormented him for months before for doing a complete U-turn changing his behavior from something painful to something more brotherly. 

 

`I’m going to call Dr. Greenberg.´ Talia said holding Stiles ticket out of life in her hands, `You are going to be fine Stiles, I promise honey.´ She gave him a gentle kiss on the temple, lips trembling, before leaving the room where her mate was still hugging Stiles like he might slip away at any minute; leaving Derek to just stand there with a look of fear and confusion on his face, she left Stiles to stand there in deep doubt that his life would ever be fine.

 

** ~*~ **

 

Kate Argent didn’t in all honesty mind fucking Derek Hale, the werewolf was young and easily manipulated into trying things and doing things he really didn’t feel all that comfortable with, she enjoyed seeing the conflict in the boy when she asked him to bend over like a bitch so she could fuck him with one of lovely toys; all she had to say were a few magic words such as “I love you” and then ask him if he loved her and the boy was on his hands and knees ass up in the air, and she used him like the animal he was. But she was growing tiered of him, he was dull and uninteresting now, and she wanted to move on to new things; new play things. 

 

And if she had to spend even another month teaching she would walk into class on a Monday morning and kill every one of her students, or maybe it would be on a Tuesday. 

 

Hopefully what she was about to bring to the table would be enough to spur her foolish father into action she itched to kill an entire family to watch the horror in the eyes of monsters when she snuffed out the youngest of the pack first. She was hungry, she’d been starving for months now, and she would have her feast be it under the OK of her father and leader or not; once she held the death of the Hale’s under her name, it really wouldn’t matter if she’d acted against or without her father’s orders, all that mattered was the amount of dead Hale’s. 

 

Kate entered the house like she owned and walked straight into her father’s private study, he seemed taken aback by her unannounced arrival, but then went on to ignore her which rubbed her the wrong way as it suggested she wasn’t a threat in her father mind, like she was somehow weaker than the men working under him. 

 

She’d killed nearly a hundred monsters. She deserved respect.

 

Kate walked deeper into the study, it felt old and dusty like her father had become.

 

`So, ´ Kate said with an almost drawling voice, eyes watching sharply her father who still seemed so very uninterested in her, but that would change soon enough, `Wolf-boy says that mommy and daddy are going yank your favorite misfit from school.´ She nearly smirks when her father looks up at her, `The Hale’s are going to home school Stilinski just so that you can’t influence him anymore.´ 

 

`Are they now.´ Gerald says, it’s not a question.

 

`They think you are poisoning young Stiles against them, which of course you are.´ said Kate, ending it all with a cold chuckle.

 

`Are you sure about this Kate? ´ Gerald asked eyes on her, she could see the wrath in her father’s eyes as clearly as she could see the pathetic nature of Derek Hale. 

 

`Yes.´ Kate answers simply before giving just a little bit more to get her father to take the action she wanted, `The Hale pup told me that they’ve already setting everything up for homeschooling the boy,´ she pretends not to notice the reaction the news has on her father, ` The family just want to keep him safe from you.´

 

`Do they now? ´ Gerald growls.

 

Kate gives a little nod.

 

Kate Argent knows that from this moment on the Hale’s were living on borrowed time, as was Stiles Stilinski because she would not be replaced by some broken thing, she could and would never be replaced by anyone. 

 

** ~*~ **

 

The news his so-called mate brought with her after fetching their offspring from his mother’s care was almost devastating, it was also the greatest source of almost uncontrollable rage.Hearing of how the boy that belonged to _him_ had tried take his own life, this development was sickening and Peter wanted to beat some sense into Stile until he understood that _his life_ belonged to Peter; his body and soul belonged to Peter even if he was mated with the useless woman that had given birth to a equally useless child. Stiles was and would always be Peter’s even if they could never mate, Stiles was his and Stiles needed understand that.

 

Peter was beyond livid as he raced out of the apartment he shared with his mate and child, in his haste and less than clear state of mind Peter left the home he hated without the keys to the car that was nothing more than one Talia’s many hand-me-downs,without keys and a wallet he took to his feet and ran towards his childhood home which was all the way across town but it honestly didn’t matter.

 

Running across town wasn’t much of challenge for the werewolf he did not even break a sweat as he closed the distance between him and the boy for whom Peter Hale still had plans for.And while he ran thoughts of the boy began to push through Peter’s mind as stubbornly as Peter’s own heartbeat was unwavering, he missed Stiles with an ever growing passion. Since leaving by free will and not by coercion the house where he’d spent a happy childhood Peter had not been allowed to speak with Stiles or see much of him even during Sunday dinners.

 

The thought of losing Stiles to anything as final as Death did not sit well with Peter, he could handle seeing the boy once a week only for the time it took for the boy to finish a meal, what the werewolf couldn’t handle was _never_ seeing Stiles again; the thought of having to visit some slab of stone at the Beacon Hills cemetery made him see red because the boy had no right to make such decision without his consent. He was furious because Stiles had no right to leave him unless Peter arranged it or gave his consent. 

 

After everything Peter had done for Stiles, after moving out of the only home Peter had ever known to help Stiles get over everything that had happened, and how did the boy repay him? By trying to end the life which didn’t entirely belong to him? 

 

When he sees the house Peter pauses at the edge of the property, he knows he isn’t allowed at the house unless for Sunday dinners or if he had to pick-up the baby.But when he sees the boy through the window of the room that had been Peter’s for oh so many years, he stays.

 

Seeing Stiles fresh out of the shower should have made his mouth water because all that pale-skin dotted with dark moles and that youthful scent was what he thought about when he pleasured himself daily, but seeing the outline of all the fragile bones that should not be sticking out from beneath the pale skin the way they did killed any lustful thoughts right out of Peter’s head, it was enough to make him feel ill. 

 

Stiles looks like he’s dying a slow death and there was nothing attractive about a dying boy. 

 

Peter watches as Stiles gets dressed in clothes that are far too large for his skeletal body, and it irritates him to no end seeing the boy so frail. If Stiles was in his care Peter would force the boy to eat. Peter wants to chain Stiles to the bed until Stiles is of a healthy weight, he wants to chain Stiles down so he could touch him as much as he wants but only once Stiles stopped looking like something with one foot in the grave. 

 

The thought of having Stiles bound to the bed stirs something within him, something dark and lustful, he wants to do so many things to that young body. He wants to feel Stiles the way he had done that one night when he was able to spend hours focusing on only him and Stiles. 

 

But then he hears a growl not too far from him. Peter isn’t sure how Thomas had managed to sneak-up on him, but the larger male had done just that and seeing Thomas looking very little like a human and more like the monster they could all become so easily; Peter knows he’s in danger of losing his life, and so he takes a step back and bares his neck. 

 

`Leave.´ Thomas growls, moving towards Peter who knows better than to argue with the one wolf who had always managed to beat him down into the ground, Thomas was dumb in everything but fighting with claws and fangs. Peter wants to glance back up at the window of his bedroom, especially when he hears Stiles gasp out his name, but Thomas is right there ready and willing to kill him if he made one wrong move; and so Peter caves and runs back to his mate and child, wishing all the time that everyone who was against him and Stiles would just die. 

 


	60. Screaming Doubts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Screams in the night were nothing new for the Hale family, not since Stiles Stilinski moved in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end is near my dears. Which is probably a good thing. Because you are all probably dying to get done with this story. Last look at Thomas and a few others before the big fire.

 

Thomas Hale had strived to be a good parent for his children, and he’d been under the assumption that he’d been at least a half-descent father to all of his children. His goal had been to be a better father for his children than what his own father had been to him and his brothers.

 

He’d done his hardest to show his little ones the extent of his devotion and love; he tried to do it so that each and every one of his children knew he adored them all even when they made it difficult.

 

Unlike his own father Thomas did not raise warriors, and he did not pigeonhole his children; if Laura wanted to be something more than just an Alpha then she would be more than just an Alpha and if she didn’t want her own children then fine she didn’t want them, if Derek wanted to sail around the world then Thomas would help him achieve it and if Derek wanted mate a human then Thomas would welcome that lucky girl with open arms, if Cora wanted to be a supermodel or an astronaut then he would support her no matter what, and if Stiles one day would ask for the bite Thomas would try and convince him otherwise but support him if he was determined to take it and no matter what Stiles wanted to do in the future he would support the boy without hesitation.

 

Thomas Hale was raising children, not soldiers.

 

He’d considered himself to be a good father, not the best but a good one. Well, that was until he’d learned about how the wonderful boy who’d sneaked into his life and heart as well as his family had for months been collecting his own death in the form of little pills. The knowledge that Stiles had managed to hide the preparation for the shocking exit that he and his mate had by pure luck managed to interrupt, it pained his heart and it was all the proof Thomas Hale needed to learn that he’d failed at being the responsible father his children needed.

 

Thomas had not only failed Stiles (and he was agonizingly aware that he had failed the child in more ways than one) but also Derek who’d lost his mate at such a young age without truly ever experiencing the unique bond that bloomed between a mated pair, he’d failed both of his boys and now all that was left was to fail were his two daughters or perhaps he was just meant to be useless when it came to Stiles and Derek.

 

What if he was going to fail the new life growing within his beautiful mate as well?

 

Thomas shook his head at the thoughts scurrying about inside his mind he had to focus on his two boys now and not the fearful thoughts of maybe continuing screwing up the lives of his children more than what he had already done.

 

He turned on the night light by the bedroom door first before moving over towards the nearest bed on which one of his boys lay sleeping with a pencil in his mouth and body barely on the bed, both of the long lover limbs hung off of the side and one of the arms did as well. The sight of Stiles barely on the bed was nothing new, the boy had a habit of sliding off of bed, and still it always brought a smile to Thomas’ lips because he too had been like that as a teenager; although he had shared his bed with his older brother Angelo who was either kicked out of bed before Thomas crashed to the floor or Thomas had drag poor Angelo down with him when the time came.

 

Stealing away both the pen and worksheet Dr. Greenberg had assigned to Stiles, removing the pen caused Stiles to whimper slightly but he settled right down when Thomas stroked the soft brown hair of the boy the way he knew would sooth Stiles right back down into a peaceful slumber. Once sure Stiles was back in dreamland Thomas helped the boy back into bed, making sure that the thin body was properly tucked in before settling back down on the edge of the bed, he stroked the soft hair that resembled in color his own mothers hair although Thomas’ mother had always worn her hair long and tied in a long braid.

 

Thomas had loved his both his parents and still did even if he was sure they would have both highly disapproved over his parenting methods. Neither one of hisparents would have accepted Stiles as their grandson, which only proved how far Thomas had come once he became a Hale that he loved the human child as if he were his flesh and blood.

 

Sitting there making sure Stiles was as comfortable as possible, snug and warm, and sleeping soundly Thomas struggled against the urge to scan through the questions and answers on the piece of worksheet Dr. Greenberg assigned Stiles, the poor boy had been trying to work through the questions when the cocktail of prescription drugs and homeopathic remedies had knocked him out for the night.Since a few weeks back these little pieces of homework had become a part of Stiles sessions with Dr. Greenberg who was trying so very hard to help them get their Stiles back.

 

Thomas knew how much the assignments frustrated the boy who’d more than once screamed that they should just lock him up in a nuthouse because it was clear that he was never going to be “Normal”.

 

With Stiles Thomas had learned that there was a special-kind of pain that came from being a parent and unable to help your child when they were suffering, the sense of uselessness and helplessness was like a bitter reminder that even as a werewolf he was not all-knowing and all-powerful, it pained him to have to trust someone else to help the person he was responsible for.

 

`I love you kiddo.´ Thomas whispered into the ear of the sleeping boy before planting a kiss on his pale forehead that always felt a bit too cool compared to those of his biological children. Certain that Stiles would be fine Thomas stood up and made his way towards the older boy in the room.

 

On the night when He and Talia had caught Stiles planning to depart without their blessing they had swiftly with the help of Derek and Laura moved Stiles back in with Derek. Thankfully Derek had been more than willing to share his room with Stiles once more.

 

Thomas had to admit that although Laura his brilliant daughter would be the next Alpha, he still felt a greater sense of pride regarding Derek who could have been difficult at any given moment after they took Stiles in but the teenage werewolf had behaved like the young man Thomas had hoped he’d raised Derek into.

 

Derek had unlike Stiles was sleeping on the bed and not half on it, which made it easy for Thomas to tuck his oldest son in under the covers that were lighter than Stiles’, he placed a gentle kiss on Derek’s forehead which would have had the boy screaming in horror because he was too old for such things.

 

`You know I find you incredibly sexy like this,´ the soft almost purr like voice of his mate came from the direction of the bedroom door that rarely closed these days because of Stiles.

 

The fact that his mate found him sexy while sporting dark circles under his eyes and while wearing the old pair of sweats that had more holes in them than what he had teeth in his mouth, he was also wearing the old faded Guns and Roses t-shirt both items of clothing Talia threatened to burn every time she caught sight of them, was in itself all the evidence needed to convince him that Talia Hale was indeed with child.

 

Thomas turned his attention from his second-oldest to his beautiful mate who was slowly moving towards him, her voice softer than it should be, `Taking such good care of your pups,´ her eyes were burning crimson but not in that dangerous way that demanded submission and or surrender, her eyes glowed red in that special way reserved only for him and it was enough to cause his dick to twitch with interest, `You are so much more delicious like this, all nurturing, than when you are stripped naked and hard for me.´

 

Thomas feels himself growing hard, but his dick deflates the moment he hears Derek groan, `Gross. Get. A. Room.´ he sees his son turn his head away from his parents before hearing Derek voice a wish that would never come true, `Not. In. The. Same. Room.´

 

`Go back to sleep honey.´ Talia laughed, before moving over to kiss her son on the cheek that was slightly flushed, `I love you.´

 

` Fine.´ Derek sighs, `I love you too.´

 

`That’s my good boy.´ Talia coos before turning her attention towards Thomas, squeezing one of his rather firm globes, whispering into his hear, `Don’t be too long, or I’ll start without out you.´ and his cock was back up and interested.

 

**~*~**

 

Peter Hale preferred staying at the apartment he shared with Martha and her child as much as he enjoyed getting poisoned or clawed to an inch of his life,he couldn’t stand spending any time alone with his so-called mate and his so-called child. He tried to keep his time within the apartment to only the hours he needed to sleep and keep himself clean and well dressed.

 

Peter also knew that Martha preferred him nowhere near her so she never complained about the hours he spent away.

 

There wasn’t a single day when Peter didn’t think about life without Martha or her blasted child. There wasn’t a night when Peter didn’t lay down in bed fantasizing about the death of the two she-wolves he was forced to live with, there wasn’t a night when he didn’t make his way home wishing to find the apartment building inflames with both Martha and the child trapped inside the burning building.

 

Running in the preserve for hours and hours kept Peter Hale from acting out several of those lovely little morbid fantasies that played through his mind. His time spent in the seclusion of the great old forest was not all that innocent for he waited for the hour when he knew even his mother would be asleep in the great old house where he had been born,and when that precious hour came to be he would make his way towards the house that stood dark and silent surrounded or perhaps protected by the ancient trees of the forest Peter loved. There was only one night in the week when Peter could enter the house while everyone else slept, it was on Sunday nights when he could sneak into the house because his scent was already spread around the house because he make sure to leave his scent here and there and everywhere only so that he could return later without being caught.

 

On Sunday nights he would brave a visit to the sleeping boy just to touch a little, to run the tips of his fingers over the soft expanse of pale skin and fingers comb through brown hair, or to just steal something ripe with Stiles scent.If it had been remotely possible to scent the boy, or just masturbate over his sleeping form without getting caught then Peter would have done it because he hated the way Stiles no longer smelled of him but everyone else, it made something wild and primal within him growl and roar with unimaginable rage.

 

It was only Tuesday night when Peter Hale crossed the rose garden his mother had created in the memory of her mate, it felt like forever since Sunday night when he’d entered the room Derek and Stiles shared now the drops of sleeping draught helped keep Derek in dreamland as long as Peter made no sudden movements or sounds to alert the sleeping wolf. It felt like forever since Peter had touched the boy with the deliciously sinful lips and doe-like eyes that made the predator within him sing with delight.He’d been unable to steal an item of clothing last time and he’d returned the one he’d taken a week prior dumped it in the washer with other clothes, no one questioned his actions believing simply that he was trying to get back into the good graces of his Alpha and sister.

 

Peter stood unmoving in the shadows by the window of his nephew and Stiles room he could tell by the beats of their hearts that both young men were asleep. Standing there, his eyes closed, his hearing focused on the sound of a heart he wished never to stop before his own did. As he stood there he began to imagine he was right there beside the boy. Peter imagined the young boy resting against his body like he had once done, head above Peter’s heart half-of the smaller body over his more mature and stronger one, hands clasped together, both dressed of course because else the fantasy would turn into something more pornographic.

 

This, standing outside the house like some stalker in the middle of the night was all Peter could do to be near the boy, and even on Sundays his access to Stiles was very limited unless he sneaked into the house at night like some common thief; Peter was forbidden to sit next or near Stiles, Peter wasn’t allowed to be alone in the same room with the boy and he was never allowed to directly speak to Stiles, and there were so many restrictions that there were times when Peter wanted to poison his entire family just to get Stiles alone with him.

 

The sound of Stiles heart changing its rhythm snapped Peter out of his half-hearted thoughts and fantasies, he knew the growing speed meant that the boy was having a nightmare and he could tell just by the sound that it was a bad one.

 

The distressed sounds the boy began to make nearly made the werewolf take his chances and just go to the boy, but his instincts for survival held him back for he had no desire to face Thomas’ wrath.

 

There had never been much love between Thomas and Peter, in all honesty Peter had always felt Thomas to be too much of a dimwit to deserve the position of an Alpha’s mate, he’d also felt that his sister deserved someone of a bit more class and understanding of the finer things. And even after Talia had Thomas mated and formed a union under the eyesof thehuman society Peter continued to mock and belittle Thomas’ intelligence every chance he got; the grease-monkey did not make the cut in Peter’s opinion.

 

And then came Stiles and it was not only Peter who fell for the boy, although Peter was sure Thomas would rather cut of his own dick than penetrate any part of the young boy with it,for some strange twisted reason the werewolf became protective over the boy Peter had as good as claimed as his own; for some unexplainable reason Thomas took to pretending to be Stiles father.

 

Peter hated Thomas Hale with an ever growing passion. If it wasn’t for Thomas then Peter could have surely convinced Talia to allow him to stay near Stiles even after Martha, and even after learning about the relationship between him and the boy. Talia would have been more accommodating to Peter’s wishes without the influence of her mate.

 

He hears Derek stir awake, he hears how his nephew rushes to Stiles aide and how Stiles starts screaming in pure terror **,** the sound makes Peter lose just a little bit of control causing his claws and sharp fangs to break through those more human ones. The wolf in him wanted to go and fight what evils were frightening the boy it considered to belong to it.

 

But there was always that little part of him that overpowered the instinct to go to Stiles; it was his instinct for survival. And so Peter continued to stand there in the shadows listening to Stiles screaming and Derek trying to comforting Stiles leaving Peter wishing he was the one holding the boy. He hears his mother wake-up and cursing loudly which was new, he hears Thomas and Talia stumbling and rolling out of bed, he hears the way Cora starts wailing because she doesn’t know what’s going on. Peter listens and feels sick to his stomach because he is useless.

 

**~*~**

 

Derek leaped out of bed as soon as the whimpers and cries reached his dreamless sleep. There was nothing new to hearing Stiles’ distressed little sounds in the middle of the night as the nightmares were an almost nightly thing, no matter what potions Deaton gave them to help Stiles none seemed to have any real power to stop the nightmares that could drive the boy to leap out of bed before even truly being awake and run off in full panic, so Derek knew he had to be fast and lock Stiles in his arms before Stiles did something to hurt himself.

 

When Derek climbed onto the bed Stiles slept on the younger boy who lay on his stomach was clawing at the sheets and crying big fat tears, Derek pulled Stiles up into his lap holding the smaller boy tightly in his arms. The moment Derek wrapped his arms around the almost skeletally thin body Stiles began to screaming with pure terror.

 

Their room reeks of fear and tears it made Derek’s skin crawl.  Derek hated the amount of fear Stiles suffered in his dreams and the fact that he couldn’t do anything to help him made Derek feel like such a weak and useless person. And still he would try and help as best he could by holding Stiles, keeping him as safe as possible, using words and a firm voice while trying to coax the younger boy from his sleep.

 

`Stiles. Stiles.´ Derek said voice firm and his arms tightening around the boy who was trying to get away from him, well not really away from Derek but whatever monster was chasing Stiles in his nightmare. Derek knew not to take it personally when Stiles was like this, screaming and fighting against him like he was the enemy. `Wake up. Please wake up.´

 

Hearing Stiles screaming like he was being dragged to the depth of hell, was enough to pull at Derek’s heartstrings until he could do nothing more than weep in his own distress Derek was numb to the fingernails clawing at his forearm.

 

Derek could hear his mother racing downstairs and into the kitchen between Stiles screaming and pleading for what monster had caught him in his dreams to let him go, Derek could also hear his father running towards them, and by the time his dad was there Stiles was no longer just screaming and struggling against his hold but also begging for the monsters in his dream to stop, and it broke Derek’s heart because there was such hopelessness in Stiles voice as if the younger boy had simply given-up on ever getting away or for the horror to stop.

 

When his dad stormed the room Derek just looked at his father who paused for a moment at the door, just looking at him and Stiles and from the tilt of his head Derek could tell his dad was listening to Stiles heartbeat.

 

`It’s a bad one.´ his father said rather loudly, Derek knew the information was directed towards his mother who simply cursed at the information.

 

Derek watches his father take a seat on the bed, placing himself across from him and Stiles. His father looks unusually pale and nervous, even his hands are shaking.His father frames Stiles face and starts telling Stiles to wake-up, but Stiles seems incapable of such a thing even if his eyes snap open it’s clear from the screaming and the way Stiles is still clawing at Derek’s arm that he’s still trapped inside the dream.

 

`I’m so sorry son.´ Derek hears his father say before his father slap Stiles hard and fast like Derek has seen a hundred times in various movies, but it’s Stiles that gets slapped and not some hysterical woman and so Derek yells, `Dad what the hell!?´

 

Stiles continues to fight the monsters in his head and so his dad lands another hard and fast strike against Stiles cheek before Derek can stop him, but it does seem to do the trick because Stiles goes silent and stops shredding Derek’s arm.  

 

`I’m so sorry.´ Derek hears his father say while placing the same hand that had struck Stiles over the cheek that had been abused twice now, Derek doesn’t need to even look at his father’s hand or arm to know he’s taking away the pain he’d caused Stiles, `I’m so sorry kiddo.´

 

Derek tried to ignore his father and instead focused on listening to Stiles heartbeat which was slowly calming down, Stiles was however still shaking and his breathing was still labored but everything would be fine or as fine as things could be when Stiles was still tormented by everything that had happened to him since moving to Beacon Hills.

 

There was a part, not the selfish part of him, that wished that Stiles Stilinski had never stepped a foot in Beacon Hills because then Stiles and Paige would never have crossed paths with Ennis, then Stiles would never have met Peter, Stiles could have been safe and whole with Paige somewhere. But Mr. Stilinski _had_ moved his kids to Beacon Hills and Derek had met both Stiles and Paige, Ennis _had_ come and ruined everything and this was what he had now.

 

`He’s awake? ´ Derek hears his mother ask as she hurries into the room, both Derek and his father nod while Stiles sits with his back pressed against Derek’s front, he can feel the exhaustion Stiles is experiencing and understands the subdued nature of the boy now;Stiles doesn’t even try and stop the needle Derek’s mother sticks into him, doesn’t protest as she injects something into his body which is good because Derek is selfish and doesn’t want to experience another struggle with Stiles.

 

The bed barely fits them all, but they sit there, hands on Stiles trying to comfort and lull him back to sleep and perhaps trying to find some comfort in knowing Stiles is safe where he is with them. Derek can tell that Stiles tries and fight against the pull of sleep, but he knows the medicine will force Stiles back down into a hopefully dreamless sleep.

 

`That’s it child.´ his mother says when Stile’s eyes finally close, `Rest.´

 

`We can take him for the night, so you can sleep son.´ his dad offers but Derek shakes his head, he wants to keep Stiles close.

 

`No. I’m fine.´ Derek insists as he maneuvers Stiles so that he’s basically the little spoon, he will deal with Stiles outrage in the morning but tonight Derek needs to stay close to Stiles.

 

**~*~**

 

Talia Hale hates having to drug the boy, but Stiles doesn’t sleep or eat enough for it not to happen. She doesn’t feel any less guilty about it no matter how much she reasons her actions, and the fact that he hadn’t fought her doesn’t lessen the sickening feeling inside her chest perhaps it makes it even worse because it just proved how out of it the boy she loved as greatly as her own children had been.

 

She leaves the bedroom of the two boys, leaving her son to look after Stiles.

 

On nights like these Talia found herself doubting her ability to save the human child from himself.When her faith in herself wavered the wolf beneath her skin began to growl and made demands which Talia could not grant, the wolf tried to convince her to give Stiles the Bite because if Stiles was a werewolf they could force their will on him; they could easily force Stiles to stop hurting himself, force him to stay safe and alive, but Talia didn’t want to force the bite on Stiles, she didn’t want to remove freewill from the boy.

 

Talia Hale also lacked the unwavering faith in herself and Stiles body to risk the Bite on the child. She wasn’t brave enough to risk her union with Thomas by giving the bite to the boy; she didn’t want to risk losing Thomas who was firmly against risking Stiles life with the Bite.

 

With the syringe still in her hand Talia entered the master bedroom, she felt horrible about leaving her son to take care of a boy that was her responsibility, and as she sat herself down on the bed she and her mate had shared for years Talia began to wonder if Dr. Greenberg was right, maybe they should change Stiles treatment.

 

`Don’t. ´ Thomas said as he closed the bedroom door, his voice was harsh, and he looked furious, `Don’t you dare even think about sending him away to that place.´

 

`It would only be for a while.´ Talia argued for the tenth time, placing the needle on the bedside table, ` Dr. Greenberg said it shouldn’t take too long just…´

 

`NO.´ her mate barks, eyes flashing and if this had been anyone but Thomas she would have taken that as a sign of a challenge, but it was Thomas and she understood why he was angry enough to flash his eyes as his Alpha, `Not a few months. Not a few weeks. Not a _single_ day Talia.´

 

`Thomas, please, be reasonable.´ Talia sighs, begs, she’s not really sure anymore because her own emotions are all-over the place and it’s not just because of all the hormones.

 

Her mate glares at her, he goes as far as to flash his beta yellow eyes at her, and if this was just another Beta and not her mate Talia would have forced the disobedient and disrespectful werewolf into complete submission, but this was her mate and so she sat still as he roared at her,`I’ll take him Talia, I swear on our kids that I will leave with him if you even try and send him away.´ There’s no room for arguing she can hear it in his voice, she can see it in his eyes, `He is not going anywhere unless it’s with me. He needs his family, not so-called professionals.´ He’s pacing back and worth growling and snarling, ` If you try and send him away to that nuthouse I will leave with him and you will never see us again.´

 

Talia knows her mate will leave, he swears it and there is no lie in his words.

 

`He’ll think we’re abandoning him, and I will not do that _ever_.´

 

`Then what do we do Thomas? ´ Talia asked, tears running freely now, `We’re going to have another child to care for, do you think we can handle a baby and a boy that wants to die…´

 

`He’s just confused.´ Thomas says quickly, too quickly, it’s clear he doesn’t entirely believe in his own statement, `He doesn’t want to die, not really.´

 

Talia just shakes her head because she believes Stiles wants to die, and he doesn’t care if it’s a quick death or the slow death of starvation. She’s heard him tell Dr. Greenberg how he wishes he was dead, hearing not doubt or lie in those words, the boy wants to die and she knows it and so does Thomas; he’s probably heard such confessions at some point, because Talia’s own mother had and so had Laura and Derek.

 

`Talia, please, don’t give-up on him now.´ Thomas says as he walks over to her, he kneels down before her and takes her hands into his, his voice is pleading and he looks and smells fearful, `If we send him away he will think we’ve given-up on him, he’ll never trust us again.´

 

 

 


	61. Build Me Anew

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles was growing tiered, not just with life but with hanging on to the anger within his heart. He felt thousands of years older than what he was, and he wondered what would his mother think if she saw him now? Would she recognize him as her little boy or see her as something undesirable?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A poor excuse for a chapter my darlings. Soon enough the end of the Hale's will arrive. My only regret is losing Thomas... why did I fall for him so hard? I am such a fool.

 

Everything is warm and comfortable even with the headache Stiles is sporting.The heaviness Stiles feels, the cloudiness of his usually sharp mind tells him he’d been drugged by more than just the mixture he’d taken before going to bed last night.As his mind gets back on track Stiles realizes he must have suffered through yet another nightmare and not the kind he’d wake-up from without screaming his bloody head-off. And Stiles is rather glad he has no memory of the nightmare, because he already had enough bad memories to deal with without adding to them with the messed-up creations his brain came-up with. 

 

Opening his eyes Stiles groaning because even moving his eyelids feels like he’s lifting weights. Stiles wasn’t all that surprised to find himself face to face with Derek, only a few inches separated the tips of their noses. Stiles can feel the werewolf’s hand in his own and he’s using Derek’s arm as a pillow, their legs are slotted together.

 

He wants to find the anger needed to push Derek off of the bed. But the anger and all the feelings of hurt and betrayal had burned through his body like a wildfire leaving him feeling draining when it came to hating Derek, the energy needed to keep up with all the negative emotions just wasn’t there anymore.

 

Lately he’s had to force himself to hate the Hale’s the way Stiles felt like he should feel towards them,but the more Stiles thought about it the way Mr. Argent clearly wanted him to view what had happened to his sister, as well as the way Thomas and Talia had wanted him to see the death as nothing more than a mercy killing, in the end Stiles couldn’t think about both sides of the story and Derek’s part in it.

 

_ What would you have done? What would you have done if you’d found her suffering knowing what you know now about the horrors of a body rejecting-bite?  _ Stiles asked himself as he looked at the werewolf sleeping so close to him, the same werewolf that had killed his sister. ****

 

The answer to the question had been resolved on the night Stiles had tried to kill himself, the night when he’d wished the Hale’s would just have let him die instead of forcing him to suffer through life; he’d realized then that Derek had done the right thing for Paige.

 

Stiles stayed there comfortable and warm next toDerek while trying to decide what to do.

 

Listening to Derek’s calm breathing Stiles realized he didn’t want to die leaving Derek to think he’d hated him to the very end of his life, he wanted Peter to think he’d hated him to the very last beat of his heart but not Derek. The thought of leaving someone who wasn’t Peter feeling so much guilt while he was allowed to escape all such things had Stiles calling for Derek to wake-up. 

 

`Derek.´ there’s no reaction so Stiles tries again with a voice that was just a bit louder, `Derek.´ 

 

Stiles had to wonder as the werewolf sleeping next to him still didn’t stir whether or not Derek was secretly taking some of Stiles little goodnight cocktails.

 

`Derek.´ the frown that appeared on Derek’s brow told Stiles that the werewolf was slowly waking-up. 

 

_ You’d expect waking a werewolf would be easier right?  _ Stiles thought as he tried to get Derek to finally wake-up. 

 

`Derek.´ Stiles snaps once and Derek startles awake. 

 

Derek looks at Stiles as if he’s expecting Stiles to pull a gun on him, and Stiles takes pity on the werewolf and tries to smile as he says, `M-morning. S-sleep well? ´ 

 

Derek looks confused, and a bit on the wary side as well it confirms what Stiles has been suspecting, he’s been aware that he might have been a bit too hard on Derek but Stiles had lost his sister and learning that Derek had been responsible for it just made him so hard at heart. 

 

`I’m n-not e-en-entirely okay with what y-you did.´ Stiles said voice all soft and apologetic, he couldn’t look Derek in the eye because he was afraid he wouldn’t be able tell the older boy what he wanted to get out there, `But I-I _don’t_ hate y-you.´ Stiles glances up at Derek who’s are wide with disbelief and a look of hopefulness is plastered on his handsome face which makes the older boy look like Stiles could shatter his heart at any moment, `B-b-but I think y-you did the r-right thing – s-sh-she was s-s-su-suffering a-an-and you did the only t-thing that could h-help her.Y-y-you h-helped her. I d-don’t hate y-y-you. Okay? I-I don’t h-hate y-you.´

 

`R-r-really? ´ Derek seemed strangely small suddenly and Stiles had to look at the werewolf to make sure he hadn’t shrunk during the night. 

 

`Yes. A-and I’m the s-s-stutterer in t-this r-relationship.´ Stiles said, surprising himself by the way his lips quirked up into a little smile, but then again Derek did look like a little puppy laying there all hopeful. 

 

`So, you won’t ignore me anymore?´ Derek asked pulling Stiles back down on the bed when he sat up and tried to get out of bed ignoring the pains of his muscles. 

 

`No m-more ignoring Derek.´ Stiles says with a little nod which caused Derek grin like there was no tomorrow, and hopefully for Stiles there wasn’t a tomorrow, because Stiles couldn’t stand his life the way it was with the homeschooling and not having any friends and feeling like a hundred years his senior. 

 

Derek pulled Stiles into a hug and began scenting him, Stiles almost barked at him to stop but then again he had missed the closeness and so he stayed still and quiet allowing Derek to do what he needed. 

 

`She, Paige, asked me to take care of you.´ Derek said once he’d finished scenting Stiles, it brought another large lump in Stiles throat because he could believe it, he could believe Paige would ask Derek to look after him because in the end she’d been his big sis who tried to take care of him. But to hear it made tears sprung forth and he started to cry against Derek’s firm chest and Derek just held him without complaining about the snot and tears Stiles was leaking onto his bare chest, all Derek did was hold him closer and rub gentle circles on Stiles back. 

 

** ~*~ **

 

Things get better after that, well relatively speaking of course considering how Stiles still wishes he’d just drop dead suddenly because of an aneurism or that he’d slip in the shower and break his neck, his also wished during meals that he’d chock to death even if it would probably traumatize Cora for life, and during every trip or slip Stiles wishes that he’d break his neck during the fall or crack his head wide open. But there’s just no such luck. 

 

Of course he doesn’t tell Derek that he continues to wish he was dead because Derek seems the happiest he’s been in a long time, even if it’s clear some things up with Talia and Thomas which makes both Derek and Stiles nervous even if Derek assures him there is no such thing as a werewolf divorce. 

 

Derek spends more time with Stiles now than ever before which makes Stiles wonder what Derek’s girlfriend feels about it a question he does ask once he realizes Derek is spending yet another Friday at home with him, ` Don’t know. She’ll just have to deal with me spending some bro-time with my little brother.´ Stiles blushes and feels a bit warm and soft inside at the thought that he mattered that much to someone like Derek. 

 

It’s not easy spending time with Derek especially while wishing for your own untimely demise, and the more Derek talks about school the more Stiles grows to hate being homeschooled even if Abigail and Richard both try and take him out for a “fieldtrip” at least once a week. Stiles would rather be back in school with all the bullies and the obvious hierarchy pf the place than spending hours at the house that felt these days more like a prison than an actual home, but Stiles understands the reason why he’s being homeschooled; Talia and Thomas can’t trust him enough to let him face the world alone and they can’t trust Gerald Argent around Stiles at all. 

 

Stiles hates it but he agrees with both Talia and Thomas because at school he’d have numerous chances to take his life, and he was an easy target for Mr. Argent. But and there is a but to it all, it doesn’t seem fair to Stiles that he’s the one being punished for Gerald Argent being a manipulative son-of-a-very-old-and-ugly-bitch, and it doesn’t feel faire that Stiles can’t do anything alone anymore. 

 

Stiles grows restless within the solitude of the Hale House, he hates this prison he’s been placed in for his own protection as Talia and Thomas had explained it to him a while back; a gilded cage was what the house had become. 

 

Stiles starts to eat, which he doesn’t even realize he is doing until a visit to the doctor tells him he’s gaining weight again and its only then that he also realizes he’s stopped purging his body after each little meal, Talia is visibly thrilled by the news and takes him and Cora out for ice cream after the appointment although the Alpha frightens the living life out of an elderly lady who dares to comment on how long it takes for Cora and Stiles to decide what to get. 

 

Stiles stops writing in the diary Dr. Greenberg had advices him to keep in the very beginning of their Doctor and patient relationship, he stops writing because he’s realized with a little bit help from Derek that someone had been reading through his writing but this person has been clever about it masking their scent with something that causes Derek’s nose to itch like crazy. Dr. Greenberg of course isn’t pleased with Stiles or the Hale’s once he tells her why he’d stopped writing. 

 

It’s on the Sunday before the big dance at school that Thomas and Talia announce that their having another child, the reactions wary around the dinner table for joyful shouts of congratulations to Laura slamming her head against the table while groaning loudly, `I really didn’t need to know you two are still active at that department.´ While Derek looks disgusted by either the idea of his parents still going at it or the idea of yet another sibling Cora asks with a look of shock on her face, `Mama ate baby?´ 

 

Stiles is the only one who doesn’t laugh at Cora’s question because all he can think about is how the baby will change everything, with another child that will need all the love and attention it really did deserve the hassle that was Stiles Stilinski would surely become an unwanted burden. Stiles has nowhere to go if the Hale’s kick him out of their house, he couldn’t go to Melissa and Scott as they had moved and he didn’t know where, Chris had his own life and Stiles didn’t trust Gerald Argent. His unwanted future became suddenly even more terrifying, even without being Derek’s date to the dance.

 


	62. With a Gun in My Hand I Will Bring You Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All Kate Argent needed was a few men, a few guns and young Stiles Stilinski.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry this is so horrible, I have no idea why I had thought this was good…. must have hit my head or something. I’m so sorry, I really shouldn’t have posted this story.

 

****

 

The moon was full and bright against the dark canvas that was the night sky, rays of the pale cold light filtered through the crowns of the great old trees which grew tall and thick on the Hale land, it was a perfect night for what she had planned.Kate’s predatory smile grew as she and her men moved silently through the forest, taking shelter in the shadows created by their surroundings, they had withthe experience of years learned to move like ghosts through the rough terrain. Even their dogs were silent. 

 

This was _her_ plan not Gerald’s and it was flawless.

 

Kate had only five men with her, she didn’t need more than that, five men she trusted more than she trusted her own family and three dogs trained for the hunt of werewolves.Kate had no need for her father’s men, they lacked the skill she needed tonight, and they were her father’s men and not hers.

 

All Kate Argent needed to succeed that night were a few guns, mountain ash, and several canisters of highly flammable liquids and one Stiles Stilinski. Kate glanced over her shoulder at the unconscious boy that was being carried fireman style by the man who would without a doubt be investigating the Hale Fire in a few hours.

 

The child had been ridiculously easy to steal away right from underneath the nose of Kate’s little wolf-toy, then again Derek was still so very young and blowing him until he begged her to stop in the boys locker room had drained the wolf well-enough for her men to take Stilinski. The kid had fought back it was evident in the ruined suite as well as the bloodstain and bruises that covered the pale boy, her men had not shown the boy any mercy even if he was human and that was why they were her men and not her fathers. 

 

Kate had placed all her bets on Derek’s ability to bring her Stiles.She’d trusted the beast to do as he was told even if she made it all seem as nothing more than a suggestion or just good advice from a secret girlfriend to her boyfriend who was struggling with the prospect of having to take another girl to the dance, it might have seemed to Derek as nothing more than a suggestion when Kate told Derek to take his so-called-little-brother to the dance instead of some overly-hopeful girl. In the end the wolf had done as she had asked and convinced his parents to allow/force orphan boy to attend what might/would be Stiles last High School dance. 

 

Derek had been such a good little mutt and delivered Stiles in a fine suite and tie to a dance which was designed to the help support school spirit or what not, Kate would love to see Derek once he realized the mistake he’d made in trusting her. Perhaps guilt and a broken heart could kill a wolf?

 

Stepping out of the forest and into the garden that gave an illusion that humans lived in the house that was far too respectable for a family of beasts, the building deserved to burn as much as the animals living inside it did. Someone weaker than she would have probably felt incredibly nervous being so close to a pack of monsters, but not Kate Argent who felt nothing but excitement at the prospect of burning down the Hale’s and the monument of a house they lived in. 

 

Her men took their positions all sure and comfortable with their surroundings. Kate was proud of her men, men her father had dismissed for not being up to his standards. Men she knew would stand behind her when the shit hit the fan, when she would possibly have to takeout her own father.

 

It didn’t take long for the wolves to pick up on the trespasser that intruded upon their land.

 

The abominations came out into the cool night air in their human costumes, but she wasn’t fooled she knew what they truly were. Those creatures on the front-porch of the house were prepared to kill, and maybe they would have done so if she didn’t have in her possession something that belonged to them. It didn’t take much to get the wolves to comply once she showed them the unconscious boy he was dropped onto the ground, at her feet really. 

 

`Evening everyone.´ Kate said all-smiles, while the young boy was forced onto his knobby knees held up by the fist pulling at his hair which caused the orphan to groan but not wake, the man that had the responsibility to get the boy to this place and moment placed the barrel of his gun against the bruised temple. Kate couldn’t help but think that she liked the kid that had been fucked in more ways than one was surprisingly pliant and obedient when unconscious and bruised, and she rather liked Stiles like this. 

 

Kate felt victorious when the fight visibly drained from the beasts at the sight of her bait. Kate had known Stiles was the key to controlling the pack, without Derek this knowledge would of course not have been in her use.

 

`Don’t you dare hurt him.´ Thomas Hale snarled, and although Kate preferred her men young and innocent she found the beast rather attractive, a strong and powerful body was always a thing to draw her attention for an hour or two. But unlike his son Thomas Hale was deadly and she was no fool and would not risk her life for a quick touch or a fuck, and Thomas was mated with the Alpha of the pack so the danger was there all loud and clear.

 

`Let. Him. Go.´ the one called Uncle Peter growled snapping Kate out of her little fantasy where she had Thomas Hale down on all fours waiting to be used like the way she’d used his son. Kate doesn’t even need to look at the werewolf to know how much he desired her dead. 

 

`I might just do that.´ Kate said running her hand over the pale flesh of the face that had Peter Hale lusting after Stiles Stilinski like the dog Peter Hale was. Kate had to admit that if the boy hadn’t been doing such a fine job at trying kill himself in a this sort of passive-aggressive way, and if the boy hadn’t become her father’s pet-project then she might have liked to play with him for a while just like she’d done with Derek, `If you all just play nice.´ 

 

`Take your filthy hands off my son! ´ Thomas roars as Kate continues to feel the smoothness of the pale skin that she would love to cover with welts and bruises. It isn’t just the skin that makes her understand why so dicks had penetrated the child it’s everything about the boy, he was born to be a whore. Kate does find the lips of the child rather delicious looking and if it had been possible she would have enjoyed watching them placed around Derek’s dick while the beast fucked that beautiful face, then again she’d even enjoy watching her father fuck that beautiful mouth. 

 

`Hardly yours.´ one of Kate’s men snickers and Kate snaps out of her little fantasies and watches how anger flares in the eyes of both the Alpha’s mate and the Alpha herself. 

 

None of the beasts noticed how one of her little helpers was slowly binding them into the house as they were all too focused on the pale kid forced on his knees on the damp ground, a split lip and a nasty gash on the forehead. 

 

`Please, don’t hurt him. He’s just a boy and human.´ the Alpha says, and it pleases Kate to no end to hear the Alpha beg _her_ for something. Kate wishes her father was there to see it; to see how his daughter makes the proudest of all Alpha’s beg.

 

`Yes.´ Kate says the way she knows will make her sound like a lustful whore, the voice that had made the Alpha’s pup come in his pants while she nibbled at his ear, `He _is_ just a little boy isn’t he? Just a _child_.´ Kate’s touch is gentle on the expanse of pale skin that is the long slender neck, it makes her think that it would look so beautiful in a black leather collar, like the ones around one of the larger Rottweiler’s. Kate knows that the wolves can smell how much she would love to use the young boy for her own pleasure, `Beautiful little boy.´

 

`You sick fucking bitch! ´ The brother of the Alpha barks and it makes Kate chuckle because she knows even by human standards she would be considered sick for lusting after a child in the way she did. 

 

`Oh, yes, yes I am.´ Kate says before moving away from the boy and turning her attention towards the family of monsters which were now showing how unhuman they truly were. The claws and fangs were out and they glared ather withsupernatural eyes, but none of it intimidated Kate theslightest.

 

`What do you want?´ Talia Hale asked her eyes going from Kate back to the boy, a child that would without a doubt be turned at some point. Kate was going to save that Stiles’ from becoming a monster she would make sure the boy died a human and not a filthy beast. 

 

`Obedience would be nice.´ Kate said grinning viciously at the Alpha, `I want you all to put those claws and fangs away.´ everyone did as she had requested even without being told to do so by their Alpha, it only proved how much power threatening the human boy gave her.If Kate had more time then she could have had a lot more fun with the beasts, but she needed to get everything done before Derek left the dance or before her father realized what she was up too. 

 

`Good choice.´ Kate said while wearing a vicious smile, `Now let’s move this inside, it’s a bit nippy out here isn’t it?´ 

 

Capable as Kate is she sees how much the wolves do not want her inside their house. Their hesitation is not welcomed and the man holding the human boy acts accordingly and pulls the trigger of the old colt, several horrified screams of “NO” erupt at the loud click as well as loud whimpers and Thomas Hale lunges foolishly towards the man signed to deal with Stiles but the men signed to gun down anyone who makes an unauthorized move takes care of Thomas and the others effortlessly. 

 

The wonderful sound of guns going off in the night causes Kate to smile. She loves the sound of pain and crying, especially when it comes from animals like the Hales. 

 


	63. Silence the Screams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He was useless, incapable of doing anything but sit there. He couldn’t stop the blood from flowing, he couldn’t stop Death from taking what it wanted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING! Kate is a sick bitch who kills little werewolf children. If the horrible inhumane way she kills the little ones of which one is Cora, skip this chapter. I need to confess this really REALLY made me sick to my stomach and I wonder how the hell I ever wrote this…. 
> 
> This is half of a longer chapter but I just couldn't stomach posting it as one, because I'm feeling a bit sick after the whole killing Cora thing...

He wanted to ruin and break them all. He wanted to crack their skulls and shred their skins. Peter Hale wanted them all to suffer. He wanted them all to die a slow and painful death, for it was all they deserved after what they had done to _his_ Stiles who had but an hour ago left the house with Derek all smiles and wearing fine suites, now the boy was unconscious and bleeding and the expensive suite ruined. But Peter really wanted to make the huntress, the leader who reeked of his nephew and sex, suffer the greatest because he could smell her lusting after _his_ Stiles and see how much she just wanted to use him for her own sick pleasures; he can smell her want and he swears that if he survives the night, if Peter and Stiles survive the night, he will claw all of her thoughts about _his_ boy out of her dirty skull. 

 

The werewolf knows the huntress is toying with them. He knows a monster when he sees one. 

 

Peter tries to figure out how to save the boy without getting both of them killed, but that blasted gun pointing at _his_ darling Stiles frightens him too much to make a move. 

 

If it wasn’t for the steady heartbeat of the boy that had been roughly placed on his knees in the dirt, Peter would have thought Stiles already dead but that wonderful heart continued to beat. 

 

`Don’t you dare hurt him.´ Thomas warned the woman who simply seemed perfectly comfortable with the situation, and Peter knew that the cool nature of the huntress was a dangerous sign. She just smiles wickedly and Peter can’t stop himself from growling out furiously, `Let. Him. Go.´ he wants to tell her what he will do if she doesn’t obey him; he wants her in pieces, bleeding out at his feet, he wants to see the life bleed out of her eyes.

 

`I might just do that. If you all just play nice.´ the bitch said but her hand continued to roam over the one and only face that could remain beautiful while battered and bruised, Peter wants to break every one of those fingers touching _his_ Stiles; Peter would break them first and then bite them off one by one. 

 

`Take your filthy hands off my son! ´ Thomas roars as the nameless whore continued to touch what wasn’t hers to touch, and the more she looks and touches Stiles the stronger the stench of her arousal becomes. 

 

`Hardly yours.´ one of the hunters laughs which causes Talia to growl low in her throat, and both she and Thomas can’t stop their eyes from flashing with anger. Peter almost agrees with the hunter, but thinks better of it and so he continues to keep his eyes on Stiles who is frightfully unmoving and silent. 

 

`Please, don’t hurt him.´ Peter had never heard his sister plead a hunter for anything, he’d never heard his sister sound so desperate as she did then and there, and it made his wolf think that she was a weak Alpha while the more human side of him wished it would work, `He’s just a boy and human.´ 

 

The huntress and the hunters with her are clearly bemused by Talia’s weak moment, which makes Peter’s blood boil because Talia is not only his Alpha but also his sister. 

 

`Yes.´ the wicked woman said with a voice that made her sound like a bitch hungry for a good fuck, she was perfectly disgusting, `He _is_ just a little boy isn’t he? Just a _child_.´ There’s a spike of arousal coming from the woman as she plays with the long slender neck bared to her by force, and it makes Peter growl because she’s molesting _his_ Stiles, `Beautiful little boy.´

 

`You sick fucking bitch! ´ Rick barks which only makes the woman chuckle like some demented cartoon villain. 

 

`Oh, yes, yes I am.´ The horrible human said before moving away from Stiles, her hands no longer touching Stiles like he was her lover calmed Peter ever so slightly. But the moment she turned her attention back to them, he felt his claws itch to scratch out her eyes. Peter really wanted the huntress dead. 

 

`What do you want?´ Talia asked her attention passing between the filthy bitch and Stiles who was becoming paler and paler by the minute, something was terribly wrong with _his_ boy. 

 

`Obedience would be nice.´ Peter nearly chocks on his tongue at that, the huntress had a nerve to speak to his Alpha like Talia was nothing more than animal,`I want you all to put those claws and fangs away.´ Everyone did as the huntress requested even without being told to do so by their Alpha, even Peter obeyed even if he desired to just lunge at the woman and shred her into nothing was as strong as Mount Everest was great, but the huntress had Stiles and so Peter did as he was told even if it gave the woman even more pleasure. 

 

`Good choice.´ the abomination of a woman said with a vicious smile, `Now let’s move this inside, it’s a bit nippy out here isn’t it? ´ Her request startles them all because inside their house they would be trapped, inside the house were the little ones who had yet to learn control of their wolves but their hesitation has a price and it comes without a warning the man holding the gun to Stiles head makes a move to pull the trigger. 

 

Everything is chaos of screams roars and gunshots that ring in Peter’s ears as he lunges towards the bitch,but he’s brought down by several bullets he’s surprised by how fast he’s brought down by just a few bullets. He tries to get up but can’t **.**

 

Peter can’t even make one of his fingers so much as twitch. 

 

The hunters are all laughing now, mean and horrid. The little wolves are howling for their parents and their Alpha.But it’s none of that that makes Peter heart skip a beat, what nearly makes his heart stop is the familiar beat of Stiles’ heart; Stiles is alive, but he can’t see him because of the way Peter had dropped to the ground he can only see his pack which had been dropped around him and on the porch each of them paralyzed, each of them now fearful of their future or the lack of one. 

 

_ He’s alive. _ _Thank God he’s alive,_ Peter thinksas he lays there unable to do anything other than listen to Stiles heartbeat the only reassuring sound in a world that has become tremendously unsafe, but then when the huntress says, `Let’s get a move on it gentlemen, we’ve played long enough with these mutts.´ 

 

The hunters aren’t gentle in dragging them into the house and down into the basement, it’s shocking how these hunters know exactly where to go, where the keys are kept and Peter thinks for a moment if it’s Stiles who’d told the hunters where to go and what to do but then as he’s tossed down the stairs and into the basement he realizes Stiles would never have betrayed Thomas and Cora;that leaves Derek, and Peter will if he survives this night beat the shit out of his nephew for bring the hunters into their lives.

 

`Place them over there.´ the huntress says pointing at the wall directly across the room from the cage. 

 

The hunters place them, all of them at the one end of the room backs against wall so that they are all facing the area where the young werewolves are kept behind strong bars, and they all know that something really horrible is about to happen. 

 

`Look at all those little monsters.´ the huntress says voice full of loathing, Peter hopes that Stiles being human will protecting against whatever the huntress has planned for them. His heart drops when a tall man who smells like greasy foods like fries and chicken nuggets drops Stiles on the ground like he was nothing more than a bag of potatoes, and the way Stiles hits the ground causes something break inside the body. 

 

`We found a baby.´ One of the hunters laughs, carrying Martha and his offspring like it’s something smelly which for once the child is not.

 

`So every ones here then.´ the huntress said with a smile, what she says next goes past Peter because Stiles is showing signs of maybe waking-up, the boy is groaning where he lays limb splayed in odd angels. Peter wants to go to the boy, pull him away from the huntress and the hunter standing nearer him, he wants to hide the boy but can’t even open his mouth to speak. Peter can only sit there and watch fearfully for what demented game the woman who will play with them. 

 

Peter Hale is afraid, really and truly afraid for the first time in his life. 

 

`Bring the dogs! ´ She shouts suddenly, Peter glances at his sister who reeks of fear and anxiousness.

 

The beasts come panting and growling, bodies tight with unspent energy, eyes alight with excitement. 

 

Stiles groans on the floor, which snaps the attention of the huntress and Peter begs for the boy to be quiet to stay down and low, to be as invisible as humanly possible. 

 

`Well, look who decided to join us.´ the huntress laughs, while she movies to force Stiles to sit, `Sleep well darling? ´ 

 

Peter manages to growl but nothing else. He screams for his body to move, to do something useful.

 

`Tell me _Stiles_ , what differences are there between a werewolf like, ´ the huntress said voice smooth and cold, `Derek and that little growling monster over there.´ the huntress points at little Cora who is snarling and growling from behind the bars, Peter can tell how much it rubs Cora the wrong way to see this stranger touching Stiles like he was her.

 

When the visibly confused boy doesn’t answer the bitch grabs a fistful of his hair and yanks, causing Stiles to cry out in pain, `TELL ME!´ the woman roars which with the abuse towards Stiles causes Cora to lunge but the chains securing her stop her before she can even touch the thick heavy bars. The hunters laugh as the little girl drops to the ground whimpering. 

 

`D-Derek’s a b-b-boy? ´ Stiles answers words slurred and weak. 

 

The huntress smiles against Stiles hear, before moving down to plant a kiss on Stiles cheek which causes Cora to try the already failed attempt to get between Stiles and the woman holding him, Stiles turns his head away from the woman and her poisonous lips but she pulled at his hair and forced him back into place. Peter wants to tell Stiles to stop fighting against the huntress, because she’s the sort that takes pleasure in others pain. 

 

Peter can tell that Stiles has trouble thinking, that he’s struggling to speak, but the woman pulls harder at his hair until Stiles cries out, `C-c-control of t-t-th-the w-w-wolf.´ The huntress licks at the bleeding wound on Stiles cheek before biting him right on the same spot, `True. But it’s still not the answer I want honey. Try again.´ 

 

Peter can tell that Stiles is concentrating hard on the question, and when he finally says, `D-Derek c-can h-heal? ´ 

 

`Excellent! ´ the woman shouts, then she nods at the hunter holding the youngest member of the Hale pack. 

 

Peter watches as the hunter who had been holding a gun to Stiles head not more than ten minutes ago if even that walks towards the cage, unlocks the heavy door that creaked loudly, his offspring cradled in the crook of the hunters elbow. Martha reeks of worry and tears, Talia is growling and Peter knows he should feel something towards the child that is dropped hard onto the floor causing the baby to cry out in agony, several members of their pack whimper now. 

 

`If you hurt a little wolf enough, ´ The huntress said while forcing Stiles to keep watching what was going on in the cell before him, the little wolves chained behind the bars grew even more restless and unhappy over the noise the baby was making, `they can die even from something as simple as a dogs bite if the bite is good.´ 

 

They all know then what is to come, and all of them wants to scream and beg but the only one capable of making any noise is Stiles and he hasn’t yet got his brain online to understand what the huntress has planned for their little werewolves. 

 

Peter watches in absolute horror as the large dogs are let lose inside the cage where the youngest members of his pack are chained for the night. The hunters are laughing and cheering on the dogs while the mothers and fathers of those little children are only able to sob. The screams, howls, yelps and cries that come from the littlest ones of their family is enough to drive anyone mad. 

 

The noise is enough to snaps Stiles out of his daze he starts screaming in horror, he tries to get free from the huntress holding him, he claws at her arm earning himself a punch in the head with backend of a shotgun, breaking his nose in the process. He’s quiet and dazed for a while but not long enough to miss the moment when Cora turns into the beautiful little girl she was when the moon did not control her, `Tiles help me! ´ the little werewolf cried. 

 

A few of the hunters mock her. 

 

Peter feels sick, he feels outraged and afraid, and so much sadness. He wants to scream, wants to kill, he wants it all just to stop. 

 

`P-p-please, ´ Stiles cries suddenly, his brain back on track, ` S-stop.´ Stiles begged, but the moment one of the large dogs raised to kill werewolves lunged at Cora. Stiles just screamed and closed his eyes when one the powerful creature takes the first bite of her. Stiles closed his tearful eyes because seeing and hearing the slaughter was too much for someone so young and Peter wished he could cover Stiles ears so the young boy didn’t have to hear the sound of flesh being torn and the children he’d played with dying slowly. 

 

Peter fears this horror will permanently damage his Stiles, Peter isn’t even sure he will ever be able to go through a day without remembering the cruelty these men and woman have shown the innocent little ones that had been faced with such an inhuman death. Even if had never loved Jennifer he’d never wished for her such a cruel death. And Cora, he’d loved her, and he’d been forced to watch her be torn apart by beasts that had felt no mercy for the little girl who’d cried out for help over and over again. 

 

The huntress makes her ways over to the bars that had trapped the children as much as the chains had, she scratches the two dogs that had survived through the slaughter of innocent children, her touch is gentle and her voice is kind and soft as she speaks to the dogs that were covered in blood which was not theirs, `All done? Good boys.´ **** Amongst the carnage that was inside the holding cell was the badly torn third dog, it was still alive and whined and whimpered where it lay back broken its master strides forth and without a word of goodbye or praise or anything shoots it dead. 

 

The sound of the gun startles Stiles, and he ends up being sick where his sitting.

 

`Well, that’s disgusting.´ the horrid woman says while glaring down at Stiles who continues to retch a few more times, `such a weakling.´ Peter wants to tell Stiles to run, because he can see the hatred towards Stiles flare but he can’t do anything but just watch as the huntress circles Stiles.

 

`Time to clean up boys.´ she says as she pulls out her own handgun, pointing at Stiles who just sits there looking up at her and Peter stomach drops because there’s no fear or anger in Stiles eyes, all Peter can see is acceptance and he hates it and doesn’t respect it because Stiles had no right to leave this world without a proper fight. Peter focuses all his thoughts and energy to move his body because he needs to get the boy out of there, hide both of them somewhere safe where no one could harm either one of them. 

 

The huntress seemed rather annoyed with the lack of fear in the boy she was pointing her gun at, and so she asks perhaps to drill in the information that Stiles Stilinski was about to die, `Any last words kid?´ 

 

Stiles nods before finally speaking, Stiles looks at Thomas and then Talia, both who have witnessed the horrible and brutal murder of their youngest child. Stiles starts of apologizing for this and that, he gives all of the Hale’s except for Peter his thanks, and Stiles tells them he loves them all except those words do not seem to be directed at Peter and that makes Peter’s wolf rage for Stiles was theirs regardless of how the boy might feel. However before Stiles has a chance to truly finish the huntress pulls the trigger. 

 

This time there is a bullet, this time there is blood and Peter panics especially when the huntress shoots the boy Peter wanted and needed alive and with him over and over again. Peter stares at Stiles who is now on the floor bleeding but alive, for now. 

 

`You aren’t entitled to a quick death darling,´ the woman laughed as she walked away from Stiles, heading towards the door leading out of the chamber that reeked of death and blood, `Not when you are a wolfs whore.´ And with that she leaves them all surrounded by death, listening to Stiles body fighting to stay alive while the boy wished for his suffering to end. 

 


	64. Let them Burn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thomas had to get his son out of the burning building, had to get his mate and their unborn child to safety but he couldn’t do much else than trust Peter Hale to make sure Talia and Stiles did not die with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh crap, I hate this chapter. I honestly hate everything dealing with killing the Hales. Why did I write this? I suck so badly.

 

_ Stiles looked at his reflection in the grand old mirror in the master bedroomit mirrored him from the feet to the top of his head as well as Talia’s who was standing behind him all smiles, her hands worked on tying the silly little bowtie Abigail had insisted Stiles should wear with the three piece suite Talia and she had chosen for him simply because she thought it made him look more distinguished; Laura opinion when she learned he was going to wear a bowtie was to laugh loudly and insist Stiles would look adorable like a little boy should. _

 

_ Stiles still didn’t get why Derek wanted him as his so-called date to the dance when he obviously had a girlfriend stashed away somewhere, and he had to wonder what kind of a girl would give up the chance to be Derek Hale’s date to such an event as a dance at the high school.  _

 

_ `You look so handsome, sweetheart.´ Talia said as she finished fixing his hair while smiling at his reflection. _

 

_ `Yeah? ´ Stiles asked he really didn’t feel handsome, just strange.  _

 

_ `Very handsome.´ Talia said with a short nod, she made him turn to face her so she could straighten the bowtie just a little, `Maybe too handsome.´  _

 

_ Stiles gave a little snort, not really believing her. Talia Hale was a mother and had to say stuff like that even to someone like him.  _

 

_ `Don’t you snort at me child, ´ Talia said with a hint of warning in her voice, but her demeanor grows softer as she asks, `Are you nervous? ´ Stiles nods because he really is nervous, he hasn’t been back in Beacon Hills High School for nearly a month, he isn’t sure he’s welcomed at all even without being Derek’s so-called date for the night. He’s also very nervous about making himself look like a fool in front of everyone, he was afraid of embarrassing Derek. _

 

_ `Don’t be.´ Talia said while fixing his hair just a little bit more, `Derek’s there, he’ll look after you and beat anyone who so much as sneers at you to a bloody pulp, I’ve given him permission to do so.´  _

 

Stiles groaned as he tried to move, he’d blacked out for a minute there. It takes him a moment to understand why he was feeling so cold, hurt, and why his head felt like there was an angry alien inside his skull. There was so much pain all over his body and he had no idea how he could be in pain. 

 

_ The dance, I went to the dance,  _ Stiles remembers as he tries to lift his hand towards his face, there’s something unpleasant going on with his face but his brain can’t figure out what it is, but when he tries to move his arm the pain that shoots through his shoulder is just too much; he can’t hold by the whimper that breaks from him. 

 

_ Drink, Derek went to get us something to drink, _ Stiles thinks while he stops focusing on the pains going through his body because it’s either he who’s spinning or the world, regardless which it is he wants it to stop and so he closes his eyes and tries to focus on figuring out what was going on. 

 

Stiles feels like he’s going to be sick even with his eyes closed he feels like he was swirling around and around and around, but his brain wants to catch up with the world regardless if Stiles was going to be sick all over the place or not.

 

_ Man, grabbed me when I tried to find Derek, no, there were two,  _ Stiles remembers going to search for Derek when the werewolf hadn’t come back. Stiles knows he was beaten unconscious because of the pain his head is in and because he is more than sure he would not have gone with anyone man he didn’t know willingly. He tries to move his arms and legs again, his body really, but there’s a strange and unfamiliar pain in his shoulder and his knee was killing him. He’s been unconscious twice now or at least he thinks he’s been unconscious twice now.

 

_ At least you weren’t raped,  _ Stiles thinks to himself and that he even thinks that makes him laugh a little, but he stops quickly because it hurts too much to laugh. How fucked-up was his life that the first thing he thinks about while in pain is that at least he wasn’t raped? 

 

Kate, his teacher, and hunters, Stiles remembers suddenly what had happened, and he opens his eyes and hopes he’s not in the basement of the Hale House but somewhere else, like out on the Lacrosse field cold and hurt; he’d even rather find himself face in the dirt with one of the men on top of him because then the little ones wouldn’t be dead. 

 

But he is, he is in the basement and he starts crying because this is really happening. 

 

Stiles can’t stop the sob that escapes him when he recalls the horrible way Cora and the other little wolves he’d grown to love had died, he can still hear Cora screaming for him to help her to save her but he couldn’t do anything, just claw at the arm of… of his teacher. 

 

_ There’s more than just one hunter teaching at Beacon Hills High School? What were the odds? _ Stiles thought, wondered, he ponders for a minute those two little questions while trying to steady his breathing hoping that once he’s able to breathe properly then maybe his mind would stop bouncing around. His chest feels like there’s and elephant sitting on his chest, and as he stayed there on the floor he came to one conclusion that there was no way a control-freak like Gerald Argent would let another gang of hunters just strut their stuff in his territory. 

 

`Argent.´ Stiles said, coughed really, `Kate Argent.´ 

 

He cried out when he managed to shift one of his legs from underneath the other, he hadn’t been aware he’d been trying to move. 

 

`Kate’s an Argent.´ Stiles couldn’t stop himself for feeling like a complete idiot for not figuring it out sooner, considering how often he’d seen Kate and Gerald talking when Gerald barely spoke to the other teachers at school and as he thought about that little crumb others began to draw his attention, and by the time the sound of glass breaking snatched his attention, Stiles had realized what an idiot Derek Hale was. 

 

`Kate’s Derek’s girlfriend.´ and that had him getting up long before liquid was starting to be poor in through the broken and bared windows inside the cell where Cora had been kept with her cousins on the full-moon, he needed to warn Derek because it was obvious to him that Kate had used Derek and now she’d probably kill him.

 

Moving hurt almost as badly after the treatment his dad had given him before getting thrown in jail. Stiles couldn’t stand his legs were hurting too much and he felt like fainting just from sitting up.

 

_ Need to get Thomas and Talia,  _ Stiles thought while he looked around, which made him throw-up what little he had left in his stomach. 

 

_ Why are they all just sitting there?  _ Stiles began to wonder when his eyes focused on the Hale’s sitting at a distance that felt like the distance between New York and the moon. Stiles starts to crawl towards the werewolves, but it hurt like hell but it was definitely nothing compared to the bodily harm his father had done to him those days he’d tortured Stiles almost to death; Stiles wishes his dad had killed him because then he’d never had to live through so much pain. 

 

It hurt like hell to crawl the distance between him and the Hale’s but every part of his mind was now screaming for him to keep on moving because Derek was in danger, he also knew that if he didn’t get Talia and Thomas out of the house right now something bad was about to happen. 

 

There’s a strange sound that makes Stiles pause, he stops breathing and ignores the stubborn beat of his heart, and then he has to breathe and he smells it; smoke, unforgivable thick and horrid. 

 

_ They’re going to burn us alive _ , Stiles thought but then another part in his brain told him they’d probably die from inhaling the surely toxic smoke.The smoke makes things more difficult for him it irritates his eyes, makes it hard to breathe causing him to cough which hurt him even further. But Stiles was determined not to leave Laura and Derek orphaned, he was determined to at least get one of their parents out of the house, stubborn tears start to fall and he ignores his own pain because he’s not going to make Derek and Laura live through the grief of losing both their parents.

 

_ You can’t stop, you can’t stop, you need to get them out, _ Stiles told himself over and over again while trying stay calm even after a strange whooshing sound was heard from the direction of the window, and the room was suddenly hot as hell. 

 

_ I don’t want to die like this,  _ Stiles Stilinski finally admitted to himself as he pushed himself forward, onward, until he was able to collapse exhausted on Thomas’ legs, his head hitting the werewolf’s knee hard enough to cause Stiles to see colorful sparkling lights. 

 

`So tiered.´ Stiles admitted as he lay there on Thomas’ legs, wishing that the werewolf would move and do something to stop the horrible things from happening, because he really couldn’t find the strength to move again, `So tiered.´

 

`Stay. Awake.´ Stiles could hear Thomas growl, Stiles tried to shake his head but couldn’t do it he just needed a little rest because he’d worn himself out by moving. 

 

`Little rest.´ Stiles slurred, his head was beginning to throb something fierce, he just had to rest just a little bit. 

 

`Can anyone move? Can anyone get up? ´ Stiles heard Talia’s voice call out voice full of panic and Stiles knew he was forgetting something important, `someone needs to get Stiles out of here right now.´

 

`And you.´ Thomas said full of determination, even barely conscious Stiles could tell there was no arguing with the Alpha’s mate. 

 

`We should get marshmallows.´ Stiles mumbled because really they should do some s’mores because you should always do them when having a campfire burning. 

 

** ~*~ **

 

Watching Cora and his other nieces get torn to pieces had been bad enough, but then to watch as the horrible soulless bitch of a woman shoot Stiles four times and just left him there on the filthy ground to bleed to death was enough to push Peter to force all his will and energy into his hand and fingers.The bullets that had been sent against him had gone through his body causing the wounds to slowly close without trapping the bullets that were unlike any he had encountered before. 

 

Peter dug his claws into his thighs as deep as he could while watching the huntress leave the chamber that reeked of death. Peter had to get his own healing to work harder, to fight to regain back the control of his body. Peter had to get the toxins inside his body out of his system so he could save the boy bleeding out on the floor. 

 

He was surprisingly thankful for the cruel nature of the bitch for not killing Stiles quickly it gave Stiles a chance to survive. 

 

While causing himself pain Peter focused on everything that was Stiles, keeping his eyes on the boy helped him focus on the goal. He could barely feel the way his claws were scraping at the bones when he finally clawed deep enough. 

 

The sound of thewindows breaking startles Peter long enough to cause him pull out his claws, but then he focuses back on the task at hand, he needs to get Stiles out of there to the hospital. Peter was amazed by Stiles strength and loyalty, if he’d been the boy he would have rushed out of there like his life depended on it which it did; but Stiles was doing no such thing, he was coming towards him. 

 

No, it seemed Stiles was going towards Thomas and Talia. Well, that was just a little bit of a disappointment, but Peter could handle it. 

 

The smoke and flames made Peter work harder to try and make his legs and arms move, and he could move his arms but he needed his legs. He can hear Thomas growling and snapping, but all he couldn’t focus on Thomas because Stiles was going to die from the thick smoke, the flames or the loss of blood.

 

When Stiles collapsed on Thomas’ legs, `So tiered.´ Stiles admits eyes closed, `So tiered.´

 

`Stay. Awake.´ Thomas ordered but all Stiles did was keep his eyes closed and slur out something that sounded like lit the nest the words caused Thomas’ heart to race, and Peter could almost see how hard the much large werewolf tried to force his body to move but he was stuck still where he’d been dumped. 

 

`Can anyone move? Can anyone get up? ´ Talia asked sounding distressed and in pain, which was not good sign considering the state she was in, `someone needs to get Stiles out of here right now.´ 

 

`And you.´ Thomas said quickly glancing at Talia who looked close to tears but did muster up a small smile for her mate. Stiles mumbles something but Peter can’t make out what it is but it spurs him on to try and move. 

 

`I think ´ Peter says as he focuses all his will to his legs, `I might be able to.´He hopes he’s right and not wrong because Stiles doesn’t look at all good, too still and pale for Peter’s liking. 

 

`Really?´ Thomas ask, glancing Peter with hope in his eyes, Peter nods actually nods and it’s enough to make him smile just a little bit because he Peter Hale would be the hero. 

 

** ~*~ **

 

Thomas Hale had experienced the inhumanity of hunters more than once, and yet nothing had prepared him to seeing his little princess getting torn to pieces by deranged dogs like she was just some fox.He was almost glad to know that he would not have to live long with that memory. But before he could give into to death he had to make sure that both his mate and Stiles did not perish with him, his last act as a father and the Alpha’s mate was to save his beloved and son. 

 

Although the future of his mate and the boy he called his son would be in the hands of his brother-in-law, the one brother-in-law Thomas had never cared much for and is he could have chosen between Peter Hale and Richard Hale he would have without hesitation chosen Richard to care for his family, but there was no choosing he just had to trust that Peter hunger for Stiles would drive the werewolf to protect Stiles.

 

Thomas had to trust that Peter’s need to protect his sister and Alpha would be enough to guarantee Talia survival. 

 

Having to place all his hopes on Peter was not an easy thing to do for Thomas, but if Peter did manage to keep Talia and Stiles safe then his family would survive; then Derek and Laura would still have at least some piece of family left to help them through their sorrows. And with Talia, Laura and Derek Stiles would stay safe from Peter.

 

The smoke burning his eyes and constricting his lunges Thomas Hale was as Peter gingerly rose to his feet,coughing so hard that one of his ribs snapped but there was no pain to be seen on the younger males face, only the will of someone hell bent on surviving.Without a word Peter reached down towards the human child who had collapsed on Thomas’ legs, the removal of the boy Thomas loved so greatly nearly had him protesting but the knowledge that there was only death waiting for Stiles in the burning building had Thomas biting his tongue. 

 

Thomas watched as Peter without a word hoisted the young boy up like some fireman, from personal experience Thomas knew that Stiles weighed nothing to even an injured werewolf, he watched as Peter helped Talia up taking most of her weight. 

 

Knowing that this would most likely be the last time he would ever get a chance to tell Talia that he loved her Thomas looked up at his mate who seemed to realize that this was the end, she looked less put together and tearful as she looked down at him, `I love you. I’ve always loved you.´ Thomas told his mate who shook her head as she had no desire to hear this last confession of his heart, `I love you and our children.´ 

 

`No. Thomas. No you need stay with me. I love you.´ his mate cried as she washalf-dragged towards the secret exit which only a few members of the family knew, `Please. Please don’t do this, don’t leave me.´ 

 

He couldn’t stop himself from crying when he watched his mate leave looking so heartbroken and destroyed, he had done that to her and it did not feel right to leave her pregnant and in tears. He didn’t want to leave her, he didn’t want abandon her with four kids and Peter. 

 

With the disappearance of his mate and son, the hellish inferno that was slowly consuming everything around and above him, Thomas started clawing at his stomach trying to reach the bullets hiding there for without his mate there and with the knowledge that he was disappointing and hurting her a newfound will to fight for the life he could still have sprung forth within the Alpha’s mate. 

 

Thomas clawed and dug his claws into his own flesh ignoring the pain it caused because he had to get the bullets stuck inside him out,he needed to regain at least enough control of his own body to crawl, he needed just a little bit more control of his own limbs.

 

`I’m his mate! ´ he heard Martha scream over and over again, it had taken her a moment to realize that Peter had taken off without her and it was something Martha clearly had a difficulty accepting it and Thomas pitied the woman but then again she had made her bed when she gave herself to Peter, `I’m his mate and he takes the boy?!´ 

 

Thomas glances over at his brother-in-law and sees that neither Richard or his mate were trying to save themselves, both just stared at the remains of their children and even when Thomas called out to the two neither one reacted to them, and his mother-in-law looked absolutely defeated. It seemed the only one willing to try and survive the hell they were in was Thomas. 

 

** ~*~ **

 

Kate closed the heavy door that had been designed to keep even the most violent of wolves behind it feeling incredibly annoyed for some reason with the Orphan.The boy had been surprisingly defiant in the face of death, she’d wanted to see fear because in the long run no one actually wanted to die, but he’d been perfectly calm and welcoming death in a disturbingly beautiful way. It frustrated her to no end to find no fear in the boy it had angered her to hear him beg for the lives of the little monsters, and it made her sick to hear the wolf-whore speak so highly about the werewolves and that was why she decided to let the boy burn to death instead of the quick and clean one she’d planned to give young Stiles Stilinski.

 

Stiles could die with the monsters he loved, he could die the same way as they did and he could do so in pain. 

 

Kate climbed the stairs up and out of the lower level of the house that would have been a beautiful house for any normal family, but this was a house of monsters and so it needed to burn to the ground with the creatures that lived in it. She smiled down at the trails of clear liquid that had been spread around. 

 

Soon she would no longer need to worry about the threat Stiles Stilinski had become to her future. Soon she would be known for the death and ruin of the Hale pack.

 

Walking out of the fine looking building that spoke of wealth that beasts like the Hale’s did not deserve, Kate felt a surge of excitement. Stepping out of the house the circle that would keep the Hale’s locked inside even if they somehow managed to get their paralyzed bodies to move, was closed by the silly little man with too much hair and far too little intelligence. 

 

She gave the building one more look, then with a smile on her face she said, `Let them burn.´ 

 

_ Maybe I’ll rebuild my own house here someday,  _ Kate thought with a smirk on her lips as the sound of windows breaking reached her ears.

 

The heath that erupted once the fire spread felt heavenly.She stood there breathing in the scent of burning wood and thick smoke, and enjoying the sound of the house being consumed by flames and she wished the wolves would start screaming to make it all that much sweeter. But there were no screams, but she was sure that there would be once the flames reached them, once the bright burning kisses licked at their flesh the beasts would start howling and screaming in pure agony, and she hoped it would happen soon because she had places to go and people to see. 

 

Suddenly the two dogs, covered in blood with a few gashes here and there, suddenly perked up and started to growl and snarl pulling at their leashes and that drew her attention away from the growing inferno before her. 

 

`What’s wrong? ´ Kate asked her voice sharp because those dogs were ruining a beautiful moment. The handler glanced at his dogs and said `Wolves.´ then without a word he let the dogs off of their leashes and a new hunt was on. 

 

** **

 

****

 

****

 


	65. I’ll run with you in My Arms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter was determined to chain Stiles to him if they survived the night. Talia could protests and scream as much as she wanted, he and Stiles would become inseparable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally the first part of a very long chapter, but I’ve decided for the sake of my own mental health (my cat keeps messing my stuff up over and over and over again) to post it a bit differently from how it was originally constructed. Hopefully you’ll still enjoy it somewhat.

 

The escape tunnel that had been constructed by their great grandfather burrowed deep underground. The tunnel went deep enough underground to make any attempt at trapping them inside the burning building or the lengthy tunnel useless. The cool damp air within the secret passage was slowly becoming tainted with the smoke burn from the fire they were escaping the screams of their pack and family were as loud and clear as their unsteady steps were loud. The whisper of doom constant at their heels Peter pushed forward through the narrow and difficult path that would take them to their salvation or simply end in a humiliating failure. Peter struggled with his own body for the necessary control and strength needed to move, and having to support the weight of your equally unbalanced sister while carrying an unconscious teenager who was slowly bleeding to death, was quickly draining the Beta of his strength but his stubbornness for life kept Peter from giving up. 

 

And if Peter’s thoughts rallied around a future where he was reunited with the boy in more ways than one, and those thoughts gave him the necessary strength to continue moving through the narrow path carved into the ground years before his own father had been born. Peter wasn’t ready to surrender to death and he wasn’t ready to give-up on Stiles either. 

 

The tunnel came to a stop at a sad excuse of a wooden ladder. Peter nearly cried out in frustration due to the state of the ladder, several steps had broken after all the years of neglect. Still there was nothing in Peter at the moment that would have allowed him to surrender, and so he carefully maneuvered his sister to the floor before placing Stiles in Talia’s lap.Peter was in all honesty reluctant to release his hold on Stiles, but he knows there isn’t much time to spare as the boy who had already been fragile was growing closer and closer to death by every passing minute. 

 

It was the idea that outside the tunnel was a life for him and Stiles, and there would be one regardless of Talia’s protests, that kept Peter from losing his focus as he struggled up the ladder which continued to break beneath his feet.It was the thought Stiles naked and underneath him moaning Peter’s name the way the young boy had done in the privacy of the lavish hotel room Peter had chosen for the night when he took something precious from Stiles and it was that thought that kept Peter reaching up for the latch that would grant them their escape. The latch however doesn’t budge, it remains unchanged no matter how hard Peter pulls or pushes, and he screams with frustration as Peter realizes the neglect they had shown their means of escape doomed them possibly to an unjustified death. 

 

`Maybe, ´ Talia coughed as the smoke grew thicker around them, `I should put him out of his misery? ´ 

 

Peter turned around at once to growl and glare at his sister, `You will not kill him Talia! ´ he could see a hint of fear in her eyes as she looked at him, and the Alpha had every right to be afraid for if she made so much as a move to end the only life that matter to Peter beside his own, he would kill his sister without hesitation, `I’m getting us out of here. And we _will_ find Derek and call Laura and we _will_ survive this. Do you hear me Talia? ´

 

`Yes.´ his sister replies weakly, it is evident she does not hold much faith in him saving their lives, but hearing her at least agree to give him one more go was enough to have Peter beating a way out through the metal barrier keeping them trapped underground like corpses. And he keeps beating and pulling even as his hands bleed, for he can smell the fresh air and he can hear the call of freedom and life. Peter ignores the pain and focuses his thoughts on what he will have if they survive. 

 

Peter imagines building his life anew with Stiles beside him he will take the boy and run if he has too. He will make it work. He will. He will. He will. 

 

The moment Peter feels the layers of metal give against his fists and claws, the moment he felt the possibility of freedom Peter Hale gives into the feverish want to destroy everything that lay in the way of his desire.Peter’s mind is almost empty as he breaks one piece of bloodied metal after another, his only thought are of the nights and mornings shared with the youth Peter has desired to keep as his from the first time he’d laid his eyes on the boy with pale skin and delicious brown eyes.

 

Peter works the metal until there is a hole large enough to fit his sister through, by the time he is done his hands are bloodied but healing. 

 

`Time to leave sister.´ Peter said rather triumphantly before hurrying over towards his sister; detach her from the boy in her arms. They needed to move they needed to get to Deaton and find Derek so Peter could kick the ass of his foolish nephew. Peter knows they need to call Laura before she lost her mind with the feeling of their pack bond breaking. They needed to get Stiles somewhere safe. They needed to save Stiles.

 

Carefully Peter took Stiles and placed him on the filthy floor of the tunnel that had saved their lives, his hand gently stroking through the hair that should have been soft to the touch but it was all one big sticky mess now. Reluctantly Peter left Stiles on the ground in order to help his sister through the opening he had created for their escape, but once his Alpha and sister was out of the tunnel and above ground Peter turned back towards the boy.

 

`Let’s go my darling boy.´ Peter whispered softly into Stiles ear while lifting him up, careful not to cause the already hurt body more damage, placing a little kiss on the top of Stiles filthy forehead; the taste of dirt, ash and blood causing Peter to swear he would one day, once Stiles had healed and settled down beside him, return the cruelty the Argent’s had shown him and his family right back at the family of hunters but he would do so tenfold. 

 

With Talia’s help getting Stiles out into the fresh air was rather easy. And by the time Peter was out of the hole Talia was already dressing the wounds, shredding her own clothes in order to bandage the bloodied and broken body. The beta could smell the worry and fear its Alpha was feeling, and it did nothing to ease the anxiousness within Peter. 

 

`How is he?´ Peter asked as he kneeled down beside his sister who said nothing just continued to bandage the boy Peter as good as loved, `Talia?´ 

 

`Not good.´ Talia growls but nothing more was said as the sound of overly excited dogs on the hunt reached their ears as did the sound of not so graceful hunters chasing after those dogs. 

 

`We need to go.´ Peter said nerves alight with the awareness of the danger they were in, `Their coming for us.´ and without another word he hoisted Stiles back up into his arms, unwilling to risk Talia taking off with his possession. 

 

_ I won’t let go of you again,  _ Peter thought as he looked down at the stained face of the boy in his arms, _now that I’ve got you I won’t let anyone take you from me Stiles._

 

The dogs were closing in fast. And no matter how hard Peter pushed his body forward and hoped his steps to be light and soundless his body refused to obey, the sound of engines roaring at the sides and shouts of excitement and laughs cruel echoing around him there was an ever growing panic within Peter’s chest one which nearly had him releasing his hold of his treasure. 

 

The feeling of unreasonable pain exploding where his right knee belonged was an unwanted surprise mid-run, it caused Peter to tumble and fall, his hold of the boy in his arms failing and so as Peter hit the ground so did Stiles and the loud crack Peter heard wasn’t from within his own body but that of the boy who gave a little unhappy groan before going perfectly still on the damp ground. 

 

Peter must have cried out because Talia turned around or perhaps it was the stench of blood or the sound of bone breaking, regardless of the reason her face was paler than it had ever been as she stared at Peter who tried to rise back on his feet once more but the agonizing pain that exploded up and down his leg had him back on the ground. 

 

When Peter turned his gaze back to his sister there was no conflict carved into her impressive face, simple determination as she raced over to the boy who had found enough strength to flutter his eyes open for a second or two.

 

`Talia?´ Peter groaned, watching her lift Stiles like he weighed nothing, like he was but an infant, a whimper of a sound escaping the young man in her arms.

 

`Goodbye Peter.´ the words that came from his sister were so final that even if she had given him time to argue his case his words would have been for naught. Talia’s eyes flashed crimson before she left him.

 

`Talia?´ Peter screamed after his sister in disbelief, but soon his screams grew frantic and then enraged as the betrayal settled inside him, his screams did not halt not until the sharp cruel fangs of dogs that were accustomed to the taste of werewolf blood sank into his flesh. 

 

_I will find her, and I will rip her heart out,_ Peter thought while he used his inner fury to fight the dogs that tore into his flesh like he was one of the little ones that had been killed like some common fox or rabbit. Peter swears while he fights the well trained dogs that he will kill his sister and he will take the boy she took with him back, he believes each promise he makes. 

 

It doesn’t take much to break the neck of a dog or at least it doesn’t take much strength from Peter to snap the neck of the dog that tried to get at his throat, he laughs at the sensation of the beast dying, the other dog pulls away not due to fear but the command its master had given it. Peter is in pain and bleeding, but he is healing none the less. He forces on a bravado he does not possess as the hunters surround him. 

 

`Well look at this pest.´ the woman who reeked of his nephew said with a voice full of venom, and the smile she wore was as twisted and cruel as her heart was. Peter’s desire to swipe that smile off of the huntress face was as strong as Peter’s desire to end the life of his traitorous sister was.

 

Peter struggled up on his good knee, trying to portray a fearless being while waiting for his body to heal enough so that he could rip the throats out of all these humans and their dogs, and his attempt to appear brave and strong amused those that had come to kill his pack and family.

 

`Did you honestly think we wouldn’t chase _every_ last one of you down?´ the huntress asked, tilting her head just a little while lighting the flare in her hand the light showing off the madness beneath her skin. 

 

Peter is too focused on the heartless whore in front of him to notice how one of the men behind him moves forward, it’s only when he feels and smells the flammable fluid wash over him that he realizes someone had moved, and it’s only when the she-devil says, `watch the vermin burn.´ that Peter realizes he hadn’t escaped the inferno at all. The flare is dropped and his agony begins. 

 

And he screams like never before. 

 


	66. When We Leave, We Leave Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Till death do we part my Love?

Talia Hale had been born to be an Alpha, everyone had said as much.It was said that everything from the way she'd slipped out of her mother’s womb on a night when the moon was at its greatest to the way her very first cry was more like an announcement of arrival than just the average wail of a newborn. It was Talia’s sure and steady nature that seemed to settle her into the role of future Alpha, the almost easy and natural control she had over her wolf was enough to convince those who had doubted her suitability to takeover after her Alpha-father. 

 

Talia Hale was born an Alpha long before the power was passed down to her by her father.

 

She'd been raised to view the bond of family and pack as something sacred, holy, a bond that should never be severed by an outsider and yet that was exactly what happened. On the night her family burned to the ground Talia Hale broke a long tradition, she ignored the bond between her and little Brother.Talia made her choice and did not hesitate to save the frail and broken human child instead of her own brother who had a much greater chance at surviving than Stiles did, and yet choosing Stiles felt right even after everything her father and family had drilled into her brain.

 

Talia abandoned her brother to the mercy of hunters. Talia Hale abandoned her brother to death while she ran with the dying boy in her arms, she left Peter and headed towards the house of her Emissary, trusting her friend to save the boy she valued more than her own Brother. And as she ran Talia thought of her options if things were to dyer for Stiles to live through the damage done to him even with the aid of Alan, if the emissary could not save the child bleeding out in her arms then she would attempt to turn him.

 

The Alpha continued running regardless of her own pain and grief. Talia does not halt her race through the woods which had been her playground in childhood, she continued running even when the screams of her brother changed from enraged to something so horrid she wished she was deaf to the frightful sound.Talia wanted to pause, to turn around and save her Brother or give him some form of comfort or perhaps mercy but she simply couldn’t afford to halt or become hesitant in her race to save the child she and her mate had taken under their protection.

She couldn’t afford to doubt her speed or the steadiness of her steps, for she had to survive for the sake of all her remaining children. She had to survive for she owed at least that much to Thomas, she owed her mate to raise their children right; she owed him to raise all of their children right, and to be there for them when he could not.

 

Talia ran as fast as she could, begging for the child in her arms to hang on and not to die, not to leave her too that night. She couldn’t even handle the thought of losing another child that night. In Talia's own mind she was a mother trying to save her own child.

 

Talia ran as fast as she could until her ears caught a familiar and much loved voice calling for her, hearing her mate whom she had believed dead or at least dying amongst the flames causes Talia to slow her pace down until that familiar voice became clearer. Without the doubts of whether or not it was indeed Thomas’ voice she was hearing Talia Hale stopped, tilting her head just a smidge as she listened to her mate calling for her, she stood there in silent wait which turned out to be not long at all.

 

When Thomas came stumbling towards her coughing and gasping for air, terrible burns trailing up and down his body but although her mate was badly burned Thomas’ was none the less healing right before her very eyes, Talia felt her heart swell with pride and her love for him grew once more. Hermate, her wonderful mate had once more bested death. Thomas had returned to her, he was alive and healing. There was once more hope in her heart.

 

`Talia.´ Thomas wheezed winching slightly at the pain it caused him to just speak and yet he was smiling at her like she was the light of his life.

 

It broke the Alpha’s heart to see her strong mate in such a state, in such unreasonable pain, and yet she was overjoyed to see him alive. This was the second time in her life when she’d thought she’d lost Thomas just to see him stumbling back into her life all smiles.

 

`Thomas. ´ Talia cried with joy and disbelief, but she regained her composure rather quickly for what her mate needed now from her was for her to be strong and not a blubbering mess, she had to be strong for him and their kids.  

 

`I knew you wouldn’t leave me.´ Talia said while taking the first cautious step towards her mate who followed her example, her steps were firm his not as much, but they had survived together and they would rebuild their pack and family. The Argents hadn’t ruined them completely and they would never again get this close to destroying their family again. Talia would destroy the Argents before they could harm another member of her family; there would be no forgiving or forgetting this time.

 

`I – I would never,´ Thomas gasped and coughed, covering the scorched flesh of his stomach with a hand which would have been too much for a human to handle, `l-leave y-you. N-never.´ and there was no lie in those words, and Talia felt a few tears slip from her eyes.

 

**~*~**

 

Thomas Hale had been prepared to die, to burn alive, he'd been willing to die for his family or at least he'd been until Rick caught fire and the horrid screams started. The stench of burning hair and flesh, the heat made him boil from the inside out, it made the way he would die unpleasantly real. With smoke choking him Thomas Hale found his will to die less solid, instead the smoke and incredible heat was just enough to push Thomas towards survival and escape; he gave one last glance at those who could not escape with him, those he could not afford to try and save, before beginning the slow crawl towards the exit his mate had taken.

 

Perhaps he was a cowered for not trying to save them, perhaps it was the pure knowledge that they would only slow him down that made it easy to abandon them to the horrific death that awaited them. Regardless of what the reasons were for him to leave those he’d called family behind Thomas crawled as best he could with his body still partially paralyzed towards freedom and survival, he willed his body to move towards his mate and children, his mind focus on them even as his body suffered.

 

Thomas did not fight the screams that were born by the burning of his own flesh, the flames of the fire licking at his arms and legs and even his face but somehow Thomas found the strength he needed to continue on moving even while his body burned.

 

Focusing his thoughts on what was important instead of the agony he was experiencing, Thomas imagined finding his mate and living side by side with Talia and their children. There was no question in Thomas’ mind that he _had_ to survive for the little life growing within his mate as well as young Stiles who had lost far too much already, Thomas _had_ to continue living for the sake of helping Stiles deal with the horrors he had witnessed and lived through; he _had_ to be there for Stiles because he had _promised_ Stiles.

 

Thomas had _promised_ Stiles he would always be there for the boy and that he would take care of him, if Thomas died then he broke that fragile promise and that was not okay not by a long shot.Thomas just _had_ to survive in order to help Derek through the grief that would hit as well as the guilt, and he had to help his son find a proper girl to love one who would reward Derek with love and proper companionship and if possible joy; Derek deserved happiness.

Thomas _had_ to be there for the day Laura finally found her mate and he wanted to do the whole threatening thing before the whole accepting Laura’s mate thing, and Thomas wanted to be there for the birth of his first grandchild, he wanted to hold his grandchild.

 

And Thomas _had_ to be there for the birth of the little life growing within his mate, a life that hadn’t been planned but which was loved from the moment it had made itself known. Thomas _had_ to survive this night and find Talia so that he could tell the little one stories about big sister Cora and how wonderful and beautiful she'd been; he wanted to make sure the baby would grow-up knowing those departed as if they were still alive and only on a long trip instead of being nothing more than ashes and bones.

 

There were so many things Thomas wanted and had to do. There were so many more experience he desired to have, and so death wasn't an option. He didn’t want to go skydiving or climb Mount Everest, what he wanted was to experience those wonderful little things he had taken for granted, he wanted to live just long enough to see all of his kids married or mated and he wanted to experience being a grandfather. He wanted to wake-up next to his mate during the early hours of the morning when everything was still peacefully silent.

 

Thomas Hale needed to experience something other than having to watch his baby girl be torn to pieces by rabid dogs while hunters laughed, he had to see something other than the burning of his family and hear something other than the horrific screams of his pack, and therefor he had to survive.

 

Thomas followed the trail his mate had left for him to follow, each drop of Stiles blood he came across caused Thomas to whine because one of his little ones was hurt and bleeding.

 

Knowing that Stiles was injured, bleeding while _Thomas wasn’t there_ to comfort the boy, not being there felt so terribly wrong to him.

 

_Possibly dying,_ a horrid voice whispered in the back of his mind, and it was possibly true that the human Thomas had taken in and had planned to raise as his own son was dying, and the though was simply too much to bare; he could not lose another child that night, not another one of his children could die that night.

 

The time it took to crawl away from the flames that wanted to consume him or the length of the tunnel which was unknown to him, they were lost on Thomas as the only thing that proved that he had moved and time had passed was the sight of the old wooden ladder which was at the end of the tunnel. And by the time Thomas reached for the ladder he had regained just enough control of his body to ascend towards freedom and the precious air that was like the necessary nectar to fuel him forward.The moment Thomas flopped onto the soft moist ground outside of the hole from which he had climbed out of, he could smell his mate and child there which told him they had paused there for a minute or two;breathing in their scent while surrounded by fresh air gave him the strength of heart he needed to believe they would all be fine, _eventually_.

 

Thomas knew he was just a few steps away from reaching his goal of reuniting with his mate and children. And because he knows his mate Thomas doesn’t stay on the ground resting for long, he drags his body up and begins to head towards the direction of Alan Deaton, the Emissary whom Talia would trust with the lives of their children without thought; a man Talia would trust to save their son.

 

He doesn’t call for his mate, although he really wants too. He wants to howl for her, call for her to come to him but Thomas is far too fearful of their enemies to alert Talia of his survival. He is silent, and afraid. However when the horrid scream of Peter broke through the night and the stench of burning flesh was carried towards him once more on the back of a gust of wind, Thomas paused for a second or two before taking off running as fast as he could no longer bother to be careful about his own injures or the silence he’d kept since crawling out of the ground, his voice was low enough so that no human ears could hear him but loud enough for Talia to hear him. He called for his mate, called for her softly while stumbling forward through the familiar grounds.  

 

Pushing through his pain Thomas continued running and his thoughts on his family; Derek kept him going, Laura pushed his aching body forward, Stiles demanded him not to stop and Talia and the little baby growing inside her whispered for him to come to them. There is no doubt in his mind in his heart there isn’t a single drop of doubt that Talia is alive. He chases her scent like he’d done hundreds of times before, but this time unlike all those other times he knew not finding her would cost him dearly; finding his mate was the key to his own survival and that of his family.

 

Thomas called after his mate over and over again until he finally found her standing not too far from the road holding young Stiles close to her body. She seemed as unsure of what she was seeing as Thomas was, perhaps she had little less faith in him than he had in her; but that was fine, because she was an Alpha after all she had the right to doubt him as much as she wished and it was his duty to prove her wrong.

 

As they begin to drift towards each other, cautious as if afraid that this was all just an illusion, a trickery of the mind. But their need for comfort, the kind only they could give one another had them drifting towards each other none the less. Thomas is so completely focused on his mate, the way she moves and the sound of her voice as she calls out his name. He is so enthralled by her that he does not smell the danger in the air. He is so caught in the exchange of words that he does not hear the danger approaching from downwind.

 

They are at a touching distance, so close that Thomas can feel the warmth of his mate radiate into his own, but the magical moment breaks with horrible sound of a long-ranged rifle going of not once but twice, and with each sound Thomas feels her warm blood splatter against his sensitive skin, he feels the moment the life of his beautiful mate is ripped right out of her body, her life is gone long before her body hits the ground in an ungraceful heap.

 

The werewolf doesn’t feel the presence of the bullet that had passed without much effort through Talia’s neck and throat and on into Thomas’ shoulder, but what he feels is his heart stutter.

 

Thomas Hale is unable to move for what feels like forever but is only the short passing of a minute, he stands perfectly still while he feels the mating bond break. The passing of his mate and Alpha breaks his control, it drives his wolf into a madness fueled by rage and grief which is unlike any Thomas’ had felt before. The all mighty roar that erupts from within him vibrates through the night, the declaration of war ends before its time as the rifle releases a third shot that silences the werewolf for an eternity.

 


	67. Continue on and suffer more

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There was a pleasure to be found in the sight of a monster ruined, it was almost as pleasurable as seeing a werewolf become feral after experiencing the death of its mate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea how I wrote such a crapy chapter but I did and here it is.

There lay the wolf, the beast, still unwilling to die as effortlessly as the rest of its pack had done. The hunter found it both infuriating and admirable for no matter how much the remaining Argent despised the likes of the Hale’s he was none the less impressed by the strength of will the beast showed as it continued to live even after everything it had been through.  

 

To survive even after experiencing the pack-bond snap and break over and over again, to remain alive even after witnessing the horrendous slaughter of all those young lives the Hale’s had created as well as the one Peter had helped to create unintentionally was impressive, to not just surrender to death when there truly was nothing left to live for was something the hunter had never seen a werewolf do after everything was lost and he found it all so very fascinating; if it had been possible the aging hunter would’ve gathered what remained of Peter Hale into one the facilities and watch with rapt attention what would become of the lone wolf who’d been burned to the point where it could no longer heal on its own.

 

If Peter Hale had been born human without any blood-ties to the monsters the hunter had sworn to kill by the age of ten, then the powerful strength of will to live on even after the bodily harm done to him and the massacre of his family would have been enough to drive the patriarch of the Argents to persuade Peter to become a hunter.The drive to live to battle against Death touch would’ve made the monster-slayer take Peter under his wing, but Peter Hale had been born from monsters and was an abomination and thus there was no place for mercy for such a creature as the now oldest living Hale.

 

The hunter moved slowly towards the bed on which the beast had been placed on, a bed that might still become his death bed if the beast lost the battle against the cold hand of Death. The monster seemed human enough as he lay there unable to move or speak.The creature of hellish birth was deliciously defenseless now injured and without a pack his nephew and niece running away leaving him behind and at the mercy of humans such as the hunter that should’ve known that one could not kill something as evil and twisted as the burned wolf by just fire alone; if his daughter had been wise and far more focused on doing the job right then this creature would’ve been cut in half just for good measure and reassurance.

 

But at least this monster had been reduced into nothing more than a mindless toy for the hunter to break and what the head of the Argents knew instinctively it was how to destroy the strongest of men and beasts, he knew how to twist the strongest mind into something fragile and unrepairable.

 

The room, a private room none the less, reeked of various unpleasant things some which the hunter could identify by now after years of dealing with injured men and innocent victims that had been caught in the crossfire or that had come to face the monsters that lurked around in the shadows, he could recognize the sterile stench of a well cleaned room and the rank of dying flesh and singed hair.

 

The pleasure the hunter felt from the knowledge that if the stench was unbearable to his human nose then it had to absolutely horrendous for a creature like Peter Hale.

 

The beast lay on the hospital bed, body fragile, almost human but the amount of damage the creature had suffered and survived made it evident that this Hale was no ordinary man, but by the state of this monster one could easily argue that the fire had cleansed the monster from the human body that was no struggling to heal and fight infections that had settled in and around the damaged skin. There was a breathing tube keeping the damnation alive, without the plastic devise and the machinery that kept driving oxygen into a body unworthy of the attention it was being given by the women and men devoted to the profession of healing. Without the assistance of the medical professionals then this monster before him would’ve perished on the night when the Hale-pack was ruined by the hunters own daughter, without all the medical aid that kept the body alive then this beast would returned to the pit from where its ancestors had crawled out of. There were tubes and lines everywhere if this had been just a human then the aging hunter might have felt something edging along the lines of sympathy but this burned thing before him was beast worthy of all its suffering.

 

Taking in the impressive amount of damage done the hunter felt a need to reach out and touch the damaged body, to feel the damage done, to press down on the inflamed parts and just see if there were any nerves left there to increase the werewolf’s suffering. The fire had caused an impressive display of injuries there was barely any skin that wasn’t burned away exposing what had once been toned muscle. There was nothing left of the good-looks that had given the beast anything his deviant heart had desired.

 

This visit to Peter Hale’s lonely hospital room was one not made by ideal curiosity or the sadistic desire to see something that had once been so strong and powerful reduced to something fragile and weak, this short little trip was necessary to gather the information his men had failed to obtain. The state in which he found the werewolf in was all the evidence needed to know for certain that the Alpha power had not been passed down to the brother of the late Alpha-Hale, which made the wolf even more worthless and pitiful, made it even more useless; the power of the Alpha had moved to one of Talia Hale’s children most likely her daughter Laura for the son Derek was far too weak of mind and heart to earn such a power.

 

The knowledge that Laura Hale was now the Alpha did not cause the hunter to feel a great deal of concern, the girl was not capable of demanding retribution and if she did the hunter could always hand her the remains of the hunters that had burned her family to the ground and say with an air of truthfulness that he’d had no knowledge of their plans, but he was old enough to recognize a strong Alpha from a weak one and Laura Hale was not a strong one; if she had been anything like her mother then she’d stayed in town, face the Argent now moving towards her uncle and now ruined beta with no good intentions.

 

Laura and Derek Hale were weak, young and adrift. Eventually they would find their end by the hands of other were’s or hunters he was sure of that.

 

And what of their uncle, an uncle now forced to become an omega well he still lived but he too was no threat to the remaining Argents.  

 

Nurses and doctors alike called Peter Hale’s stubbornness to live a miracle which was understandable considering how none of them knew exactly what Hale was, but any hunter with half-a-brain would’ve known that this thing hanging on to life wasn’t all that human.Now in this broken shape it wouldn’t take much to kill the beast, all it would take was just a flip of a switch and pull of a few plugs twist a few tubes and lines and off the creature would be and indeed there was a part of the older male that wanted to do it to just put an end to this abomination, but another part wanted the beast to suffer more to live trapped inside a useless body.  A part of the hunter wanted the wolf to live on without a pack that could aid him in his recovery, a pack to keep his mind from slipping, a part of the older male wanted this beast to lose touch with reality and become nothing more than a husk of someone it had once been.  

 

Approaching the bed with his steps slow and calm, humming a lullaby he’d once heard a female werewolf sing to her little ones before he put a bullet through her grieving heart; he’d shown her mercy by killing her before he’d put her pups down.

 

As soon as he’s in touching distance the hunter places his hand on the beast that was burned from head to toe, squeezing not so gently the burned limb as if he was nothing more than an aging man who was simply taking support from the burned and broken body closest to him, and if the glove he wore was laced with wolfsbane who else was to know except for him and the creature he was harming? If anyone walked in on this little moment between them it would all look like nothing more than a simple accident by an elderly man who’d been shot weeks ago by his own daughter.

 

He hates the cane which he’s now forced to use until the damage Kate had done during her last desperate attempt at ending his life and saving her own, sadly her betrayal had forced his hand; Kate had forced him to put her down like some rabid dog or like one of the monster’s they had been hunting together.Kate had forced his hand but Chris hadn’t seen it as such, and soon after Kate’s funeral his son packed his things and left him without a word of goodbye;the hunter had always known Chris was softer and weaker than Kate and so his departure wasn’t a surprise or a source of heartache for the injured Argent, and if the father knew his son and he did know Christopher Argent then his son would return one day perhaps with a family of his own in toe.

 

Chris would come back eventually. Chris always did.

 

The machines displaying the state of the werewolf told the now slightly bitter hunter that he was indeed causing the beast further agony which was a faire exchange for the grief the Hale’s had caused him and his family; Kate had been driven to raise against her own father and his orders forcing the his hand to punish her by executing every single one of her men,and she’d repaid him with trying to kill her own father and take his place at the head of the family. The hunter had been admittedly surprised to learn that his only daughter had been so willing and prepared to betray him which shouldn’t really have been such a shock considering how Kate had always had a ruthlessness to her, she’d possessed a drive for power a hunger to be more than just another soldier in the legacy of the Argent’s family and he’d been so proud of that trait once.

 

Peering down at the burned creature that struggled to unseal his eyes, but unseal them he did and so the eyes of the beast opened revealing the agony and fear the perverted creature is experiencing, and the fear the wolf showed him eased some of the anger and resentment the hunter felt towards the Hale’s.

 

`Well, ´ theoldestremaining Argent hummed whilesqueezing the mess that was Peter Hale’s wrist, `well, look at this, all alone and without a pack to protect and care for you.´ the hunter couldn’t help but smirked down at the creature that looked truly pained, the heart-rate of the werewolf picked-up and the limbs twitched ever so slightly where they lay useless.

 

 `And no family.´ the mention of what the beast had lost caused a great deal of grief to replace the flicker of fear and rage that had been shown in the once so clever eyes, `the last remnants of your own family ran and left you here, like some unwanted family pet. I’m sure you can feel it, sense it.´

 

 `Your nephew and niece escaped this town before I could finish the job my daughter started.´the hunter tells the beast, giving it the little bit of information to drive in the information of abandonment, to remind the werewolf how he had been left in the mercy of the Argents or rather in his mercy as it were.

 

The beast looks like it might wet itself with fear and the smile cruel and terrifying rises on the face of the aging man who still carried the name of Argents proudly even if he’d been the first to break the code of his forefathers.

 

` Now don’t be afraid, ´ he says softly, as if to comfort the creature, ` I’m not here to kill you. Although if your body ever decides to heal enough for you to ever leave this bed, then I would of course come and finish the job Kate started.´

 

Stroking the ruined arm disturbing the disgusting wounds the hunter leans down just so, just enough to whisper into the remnants of what had once been an ear, `I’ll kill you before you’ll ever get close to young Stiles again.´

 

The skip of the beast’s heart told the hunter more than the shocked look which washed over the burned face, and the way the throat worked around the breathing tube and the way the limbs had gone back to twitching, told the hunter he’d hit a nerve.There was a feeling of victory within the remaining born Argent in Beacon Hills, and the hunter couldn’t help but grin down at the beast as its heartbeat began rapidly beat with a wildness suited for such a creature as Peter Hale.

 

`Oh you thought him gone.´ he amuses while straightening his stance, ` Perhaps you thought him dead, killed with your Alpha sister? ´

 

Peter stares at him all wide-eyed and the hunter laughs hard enough to cause the ache in his ribs prominent once more.

 

`I put her down, a clean shot through her head was all it took to bring down your pathetic Alpha.´he can feel the broken beast try and move to do something other than just lay there still and useless, but the body will not yield to the will of Talia Hale’s baby brother and there was a special kind of pleasure in knowing that the animal was so weak and broken that one could do anything to it without it being capable to fight or escape.

 

`How does it feel to know your own sister abandoned you for the sake of some human boy? How does it feel Peter Hale to know that your own sister left you to die while doing her best to save the human boy who wished you dead? ´

 

Something almost argumentative flickers through the blue eyes of Peter Hale, throat working around the breathing tube and the hunter nearly laughs at the feeble attempt at a protest.

 

`He’ll always hate you, you know that don’t you? ´ the hunter says of course not revealing the fact that the human boy was still unconscious and healing slowly under the watchful eye of men and women the Argent’s had always trusted to care for their medical needs.

 

The abomination makes an abrupt movement with its head, like a shake of a protested word that can’t be spoken out loud but must be known regardless of the pain it causes the charred body.It is all great fun for the hunter who’d lost his only daughter and his son as well to this war against the Hales, to this battle of the Stilinski boy.

 

`You see beastie, ´ the hunter says while letting go of the ruined arm, ` Ennis told him it was your design, ´ the hunter who was placing all his hopes and dreams of his legacy in a child who was healing from the wounds his own daughter had caused him was pleased to see how he now held the full attention of the monster,  `the Alpha told the boy that it was your wish for him to take the boy by force, to violate him like some worthless bitch.´

 

The wolfs reaction was simply delicious and the hunter regrets not having one of his men document this moment,  watching as the pieces started falling into place within the clever mind of the werewolf who’d lusted after the boy in the same wicked way as Ennis had done.

 

`Oh yes Genim believes you were the reason behind his horrific assault,´ the hunter enjoys the way this news settles inside the beast before him, ` Of course we both know that you weren’t the one who sent that useless Alpha after your little boy-toy.´

 

Peter stares up at him the realization of what had happened to the boy Peter had seduced and left like a piece of trash sinking in regardless of how shocking it had to be, even the aging Argent still found this part of this story of how he gained Stiles Stilinski under his control and care disturbing and shameful.

 

` That was my doing, sending him to ruin your toy.´ he hasn’t confessed this out-loud to anyone before and it leaves him feeling slightly ill, he did not care to recall the shape in which Ennis had left the human boy in.

 

The wolf flares behind the almost human eyes, it’s clear that the monster tries to scream and rage but its own body does nothing more that twitch a little, frustrated and angry tears start to sneak out of those unholy eyes and the head of the Argent’s truly regrets not having the foresight to document this delicious moment.

 

The hunter pets the arm like he wasn’t all that hungry to see the beast suffer further while confessing how he’d also been behind sending the pictures of Genim Stilinski being a little slut to the late-sheriff, and once that confession was made it was even easier to tell the beast how he’d also made sure that the man was heavily drugged on the night the sheriff assaulted his own son.

 

 `I could have perhaps done something less destructive, but I needed the boy, ´ the older Argent confessed while releasing his hold of the beast.

 

`I’m sure you can understand that much, can’t you Peter? ´

 

The heart-monitor was going crazy, and the body continued to twitch and the monster’s eyes glowed with understandable rage. The hunter returns to rubbing and petting the damaged arm of the beast but although it had to be agonizingly painful to be touched the anger in the beast’s eyes didn’t falter the slightest.

 

`But of course things became complicated once Mr. Stilinski decided to side with Talia and Thomas, he would’ve signed his son of to your sister and brother-in-law, ´ there is no keeping the loathing out of his voice, it still stung deep and hard to know that the sheriff had been willing to sign of his own human son to the Hale’s when he should’ve been given to the hunter who knew how to raise soldiers, who knew how to protect the fragile and weak.

 

`So I had to end him, I had no other choice but to kill Mr. Stilinski, to send him to his wife and daughter.´

 

The wolf truly shines through the eyes of Peter Hale and the hunter instinctively reaches for the weapon he isn’t carrying, frowning slightly at the emptiness the lack of a gun or a knife leaves him with.

 

`Stilinski cried, begged for mercy as we strung him up. He was filth and yet he begged for mercy.´ the hunter growls even though he found some pleasure in the memory of how the man hadn’t died all that easily, limps twisting and hands reaching to claw at the instrument of his death.

 

`And still even after _everything_ I did to secure him your family took him from me.´ the anger burns brightly within beast and man although the anger they feel isn’t the same at all, and while Peter’s anger will live on his doesn’t have too as the hunter had in the  `But in the end you and your lot lost _everything_ , andI got him where he belongs.´Hale looks like he wants to leap up and out of bed, there’s a wrath there that nearly startles the hunter, at something, but the monster on the bed can’t even lift a finger so much as an inch off of the bed. It is all rather amusing to the hunter.

 

`I might find it in my heart toallow Stiles to visit you, one day,´the words cause the werewolf to still completely and just stare at him with just a little bit of suspicion and a whole lot of pitiful hope,` Would you like that, to hear him speak? To see him again, would you like that, to have him so close that you can smell him again?  I bet you’d love that wouldn’t you Peter, to have that wonder boy near again? ´

 

The hunter knows by the desperate look in the monsters eyes that yes indeed Peter Hale would want nothing more than to see the human boy, it was almost amusing to the hunter that this monster wanted to see the boy who’d slowly become just another soldier in the war against the abominations that threatened the world; Stiles would grow into a striking man who a boy who would continue the legacy he’d started with Kate, a legacy Christopher failed to uphold. There was a strange sort of pleasure in the knowledge that the boy the beast would be molded into something lethal.

 

`I would like young Stilinski to see the monster that nearly destroyed him.´the hunter says while retracting his contact with the burned creature, `I would like you to see how I’ve groomed him into my own image.´the aging hunter begins to make the slow walk away from the creature he would see suffer for as long as possible, turning to give the beast that had violated the boy who should’ve stayed pure for him a linger look before speaking the final words to Peter Hale before returning to the beside of the injured boy, `Perhaps he’ll be the one to put your niece and nephew down, as well as you too Peter Hale.´

 

**Author's Note:**

> Oh, and if you haven’t figured it out by now, my loves, certain things won’t be playing out in the right order or at all. And there will be more information here and there along the way.  
> But I do hope you'll like my little tale, or at least try and enjoy it. And please just give this tale a chance…and don't be hateful.  
> And I’m apologizing now and only now for cutting Scott out of the picture, but my Dove doesn’t care much for him and had told me which people to use and which not too and Scott was on the NOT LIST although so was Finnstock and him I could not ignore. 
> 
> Oh, I should have mentioned that Mr. Stilinski is a deputy, and his name is Alec Stilinski because my dear dove likes the name Alec and cringes at the name John or Michael. I’ll try and do better with my notes.
> 
> Oh, and I should warn you Peter isn’t just going to jump in at the start and there will be no great explosion of Steter in the beginning of this story, but it’s slow and it drove me up the freaking wall.
> 
> I'm crap at notes.... sorry about that people.


End file.
